


Of Princes and Paupers

by baeconandeggs, oraceon



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: BAE2017, Explicit Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 07:50:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 29,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11031819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baeconandeggs/pseuds/baeconandeggs, https://archiveofourown.org/users/oraceon/pseuds/oraceon
Summary: Some scars never fully heal, and Chanyeol knows it all too well. He's spent most of his life running from his past because of it. But when he's sent on a mission to find a lost prince and instead meets a boy without a home, history begins to catch up and running is no longer an option.





	Of Princes and Paupers

**Author's Note:**

> Author: anonymous  
> Prompt#: 008  
> Title: Of Princes and Paupers  
> Word Count: 30,057  
> Rating: NC-17  
> Warning(s):swearing, sexual content and references, violence, allusions to past character death  
> Disclaimer: The celebrities' names/images are merely borrowed and do not represent who the celebrities are in real life. No offense is intended towards them, their families or friends. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this fictional work. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> Author's Note: Firstly, I would like to say to my prompter: thank you for giving me such an amazing prompt, and I apologise if I couldn't do it justice. This prompt was definitely a challenging one for me, and I ended up writing more than 10k of it in the space of a few hours. I really wanted to make this a longfic for you, and unfortunately some last-minute things came up in real life that meant I couldn't give it as much attention as I wanted to (which explains the pacing issues and the lack of proofreading, but I know I shouldn't be giving excuses). I hope it's still somewhat up to scratch. I would also like to thank S for our banter about being terrible at sticking to deadlines, it may seem inconsequential but it did help me calm down quite a bit. Lastly, I would like to thank the mods for putting up with me and my inability to write to deadlines and constant requests for extensions. Thank you for being so understanding and not just dropping me, your patience is something I admire and envy to no end. Finally, I would like to say thank you in advance to the readers, and I hope what I serve up for BAE satiates your appetite! Bon appétit!

**PROLOGUE: 1909**

  
  
  
He had been told to run, and he does.  
  
Footsteps light on the ground, Chanyeol weaves among the chaos, ducking under windows through which bullets fly and flames erupt. The heat is searing, and pieces of glass litter the floors of the Palace, crunching under Chanyeol's shoes as he flees.  
  
The king is dead. Three gunshots in the chest was all it had taken, all that was needed to end the life of a man he had thought of as a father. The Princes and Princess are nowhere to be seen, and Chanyeol cannot help but imagine the worst.  
  
Tears blur his vision, so he can't see the blast coming before it happens.  
  
The impact of the explosion outside knocks him off his feet, a force that could topple a grown man making little work of a scrawny boy of only 10 years old. A piece of hot shrapnel scorches the skin of his forearm and he screams, louder than he ever has.  
  
"Chanyeol, is that you?" There's a boy there, but he can't tell who it is through the smoke. He's wearing the same clothes he is, so when he's offered a hand up he takes it and they run together to where some more of the Palace boys are.  
  
"There's a way out, through the tunnels underground," one of them says, Chanyeol guessing it's Junmyeon by his voice alone. "Let's go."  
  
As they reach the entrance to the tunnels, Chanyeol takes a look back at the Palace, what was beautiful just this morning now in ruins. His heart tells him to stay - to fight for the only home he had ever known - but Junmyeon calls his attention, shaking his head, already aged beyond his years in just one night.  
  
"There's nothing left," he says, sadly. "Now we have to ensure our own survival."  
  
Chanyeol squeezes his eyes closed, from the pain in his body and his mind. After telling himself there's no other way, he takes the step into the dark and murky tunnels that were never meant to be used.  
  
The boys run all together, taking the twisting paths they had heard would get them out. Some of them barefoot, feet blackened by the tar, others yet injured, bloodied and burned, and all of them blind, in the dark caverns with no light to show them the way.  
  
Eventually, after what feels like hours, they find an exit, an outlet back into the real world. They run out onto the abandoned street, many thanking the heavens for saving them, others yet simply bursting into sobs. Chanyeol does not thank God, and he does not have any tears left to cry. He simply turns to look up the hill again, to see the Palace, his home, turning to ashes.  
  
As he does, something from the tunnels behind him flashes in the corner of his eye. There's a figure, noticeably bigger than himself, holding something to its chest. With a blink of an eye, however, it disappears.  
  
Chanyeol tells himself he's just seeing things.

 

 

**Of Princes and Paupers: 1924**

 

 

The alleyway has an undeniable stench - alcohol, blood and likely some other bodily fluids form a heady miasma just outside the establishment. This is where he finds him.  
  
Slipping on his leather gloves, breath held and steps cautious, Chanyeol lightly tips the man's ratty newsboy cap away from his face, checking the photograph he'd been given to identify the runaway. Chanyeol smiles to himself. After all that searching, at the cost of both time and energy in a wild goose chase down half of the East, he's finally caught up to him.  
  
Latching the rogue to the nearest drainpipe with the special handcuffs he keeps handy, he walks to the telephone booth placed conveniently within his line of sight, and picks up the receiver.  
  
"Yes officers. I've found him. I'm calling from the telephone on main street in the Red Light District. Please come soon."  
  
Placing the telephone back in place diverts his eyes for a second, within which time a low groan sounds from the alley. Chanyeol turns quickly, just in time to see the man struggling with the handcuffs, using a nearby piece of cinder to try and cut through it.  
  
"Hold it right there. What do you think you're doing?" The man doesn't reply, doesn't even face Chanyeol, but instead continues to obsess over the cuffs. "It's no use," Chanyeol tuts, checking his watch, which shows it's nearing 3pm - he hasn't had lunch yet, and he's starting to feel it. "Titanium links."  
  
The man snorts. "Why would a cop have such expensive tools? You can't bluff these things with me."  
  
"Who said I'm a cop?" Chanyeol says coolly, crossing his arms and staring down at the man writhing on the mucky stone floor. "Those cuffs are a gift."  
  
On hearing this, the man stops and looks up abruptly, eyes filled with a new hope. "You're not? So what, you're a gun for hire?"  
  
"I wouldn't call it that, but more or less, yeah," Chanyeol nods. He isn't wearing his uniform, opting for a simpler shirt with trousers and suspenders whenever he's not directly under the watchful eye of his superiors. Maybe this is why the man seems so hopeful, since he doesn't know what's coming to him.  
  
"Then you're just like one of us, right? You know how difficult it is to live and get by in this age." He tries to sit up, but the cuff around his wrist makes it difficult for him to find balance. "I lost most everything in the war, so I didn't have another choice here. You understand that, right?" Chanyeol stares at him blankly. "You'll let me go, won't you?" The man is pleading at this point.  
  
"I'm really sorry, but I can't," Chanyeol sighs as he crouches next to the ruffian. "The people you stole from worked just as hard as you, but you didn't take that into account, did you?" He reaches out, playing the chain between the cuffs and the drain through his fingers. "If you act like a rat, that's how you'll stay."  
  
"You bastard!" The man shouts, and before he knows it Chanyeol feels a sharp pain climbing up his arm as the man jabs into his forearm with the sharpened, still hot cinder from before, breaking skin several layers deep.  
  
"Hey you, halt this instant!"  
  
The police rush the man, one of them stopping to help Chanyeol as he keens over. The cuffs are replaced and cast aside, and Chanyeol groans in pain as he reaches for them, slipping them back into his pocket.

 

 

=

 

 

Picking at the fabric around his cast, Chanyeol breathes slowly, in and out. The air in Xiamen is salty, the spray overbearing from the coast as the waves crash ashore. It certainly is a change of pace from Nanjing, where he had spent a few nights earlier this week, and even from Shanghai, despite also being a coastal town. The man he'd caught earlier had led him on a wild goose chase down most of Asia - a part-timer who'd pocketed a jewellery store's entire revenue for a month and ran. Eventually he had found, as he expected, the man passed out in an alley outside a brothel, almost all the money spent. It didn't matter to him too much though, reparations could be filed for now and Chanyeol earned more reward money than needed to cover the hospital bill and his commute back.  
  
"Excuse me Nurse, I think I need a sponge bath," he jokes, watching the retreating back of the pretty nurse who'd just attended to him, her slight heels clicking against the smooth floors. "Honestly. I'm sitting here all dirty."  
  
She rolls her eyes, not so discreetly flashing her wedding ring as if he hadn't already noticed. Chanyeol lights a cigarette, almost regretful when he realizes these are probably the first toxins the air around here's ever been exposed to.  
  
He flips open his journal, looking through the past few pages and recording the completion of his latest task under the present date, the 4th of September 1924. Junmyeon had recommended the job to him specifically, while Jongdae spent his time on the easy stuff back up home, such as fixing up people's workshops after they got vandalized. Sometimes Chanyeol feels like he should refuse jobs outside of Seoul altogether - but then he remembers how much he needs the money, and quickly puts thoughts of a comfortable life away. For now though, he decides he should probably look for a telephone so he can tell the guys back in Seoul about his situation.  
  
He takes a drag, thinking about how much he probably looks like a troubled artist at the moment, notebook in hand and all. The only thing missing is a beret.  
  
"Busan? Are you sure?" A faint voice can be heard through the thin plaster walls of the ward, and Chanyeol catches a peek of a young man through the doorway, trailing behind a white coat.  
  
"Yes, Mr Byun. Those were her last words." The doctor pauses, the awkwardness in his voice almost tangible. "Once again I'm incredibly sorry for your loss. We tried our best."  
  
Chanyeol can almost picture the tears rolling down the youthful-sounding man's cheeks. He can't say he pities him too much, considering his own history - especially since the man could probably afford to get the lady an ambulance before she croaked. More than diamonds and fine wine, it's luxuries like that which Chanyeol wishes to afford.  
  
"I understand," the voice is louder now, though still hoarse. Chanyeol can hear the distinct Hokkien dialect common to the area, but also an accent he's never quite heard in the cities. "She will be taken to the crematorium, correct? I have to leave quite urgently, so I won't be able to stay."  
  
"Absolutely sir. Just wait here," Chanyeol assumes the doctor has pointed to the small chair outside his ward door. The legs of the battered wood clatter slightly against the floor as the man takes a seat. "I'll be back in a moment with the final papers," says the doctor, voice already growing distant by the end of the sentence.  
  
As soon as the doctor's footsteps disappear the place goes silent, and the stillness combined with his own weariness from his wound has Chanyeol drifting off to sleep in no time.

 

 

=

 

 

_The palm of the hand on his mouth is smooth and cold, and stronger than he thought it would be. Chanyeol gives a nod of assurance that he’ll be silent, and Prince Eun drops his hand.  
  
“My deepest apologies, Your Majesty, but it’s just not possible,” the court physician’s voice sounds from just beyond the door.  
  
“Will it ever be possible for him to join us in any outings?”  
  
“I cannot say about the future, but we can pray,” he sighs, exasperated. “But it is good you brought in that boy. His temperament seems to be a lot better than it was, and it would do him good to have someone to talk to when you’re all away.”  
  
“I think so too,” the king agrees. “That Chanyeol, he’s a good kid. He could rise the ranks as an officer someday. Anyways, we should be going. The convoy is ready to leave, so I’ll leave Wang Eun in your care.”  
  
Eventually the two sets of footsteps disappear, and when Chanyeol looks to the prince he’s not doing much at all, just staring at the fine quilted bedsheets in the room he’s been confined to for years. It’s something Chanyeol can’t even imagine – he had never left the city, sure, but he knows the cries of the birds in the morning, the smell alongside the banks of the river and the touch of spring rain against his skin. Prince Eun, in his cage where he could order any food he desired or read any book he wanted and where the widows were never opened, had no idea of these things despite their shared number of years.  
  
Which is why the king had chosen him. In exchange for words and numbers and history, Chanyeol gives the Prince the sounds and shapes and smells of a life he has never known.  
  
Prince Eun stares at Chanyeol directly. His skin clear and rosy and his stomach well-fed. Chanyeol didn’t understand his illness – everyone he had known as sick was starving or diseased, both of which Wang Eun shows no signs of suffering.  
  
“I’ll never be able to leave,” the boy says, desperation in his words. “One day you’ll leave me here too, won’t you?”  
  
Suddenly the edges of the picture begin to warp, twist, and Chanyeol’s vision is filled with fire. Smoke fills the room, and unseen hands begin to drag him away; even as he tries his hardest to fight the hands, screaming for Prince Eun as his silhouette recedes further into the darkness, his question ringing in Chanyeol’s young ears, until he’s little more than a pindrop in the void, and then, with an unwilling blink of Chanyeol’s eyes, he is gone._

 

 

=

 

 

He opens his eyes, panting heavily. It must have been a nightmare – they weren’t uncommon for him, but he hadn’t had one in a long while. It’s just as well he’s awake now though, as his ears pick up rushed footsteps growing louder, this time from the opposite direction, increasing in speed until the person leaving them turns into Chanyeol's room.  
  
"What-" Chanyeol's jaw drops a little, and then his brows furrow in exasperation. "Oh please. Do you really think exacting revenge on me is going to solve anything? The police are likely already here."  
  
The thief he'd been chasing for the past month simply stares at him, fuming, before pulling out his gun. Two steps forward and the cold steel of the barrel is heavy against Chanyeol's forehead.  
  
"Robbery won't warrant too long a sentence but murder? I didn't realise you were so foolish."  
  
The man frowns, moving his finger to just touch the trigger. "I didn't know who you were, but then I got a good look at those cuffs of yours. The insignia?" He spits, staining the clean tile of the hospital floor a putrid yellow. "You're nothing but one of the Crown's dogs. You have no right to look down on me."  
  
"I guess I am," Chanyeol crosses his arms, "and that's exactly why I despise people like you. If I learned anything there, it's that you can act like a pedigree all you want but you'll always be a runt."  
  
"You son of a-"  
  
"Excuse me sir, not so fast," a stranger's voice says. However it's not unfamiliar, as Chanyeol recognizes it as the man speaking with the doctor earlier. He's small, barely visible from where Chanyeol's sat as his whole body is obscured behind the other man's. When Chanyeol catches glimpses of him he sees a cute button-like face framed by soft brown hair in the slightest of curls. He certainly doesn't look like the type of person who should be interfering here. "That man is my escort to Busan and it'd be awfully inconvenient for me if you killed him right now."  
  
The thug turns slowly to the source of the noise, and snorts when he takes in the boy's petite appearance. "And why should I care about your travel plans, sonny?" He looks the boy up and down, his temperament suddenly shifting. "Of course, if you could offer me some sort of compensation in exchange for this man's life, then I might be able to consider it."  
  
If the boy feels as disgusted as Chanyeol does, he doesn't show it. "I do apologize, I don't have much cash with me. However," he takes a few steps towards the bulky man, staring up at him through batted eyelashes. "There are other things I could do for you."  
  
Chanyeol fights back the urge to throw up. The thief has to look down about a foot to stare at the hands the boy has placed on his chest. "I'm listening, kid. What can you do for me all for your little friend here?"  
  
"Hmm... I don't know. How about this?"  
  
Before the man can take account of what's happening the smaller boy has landed a blow straight to his gut. While he buckles over, eyes bulging slightly in shock, the boy turns, anchoring the thief's arm over his shoulder, and pushes his own weight forward onto his toes. In a show of strength Chanyeol couldn't have expected in a hundred years, the boy flips the man over his shoulder and onto the hard tile floor, which Chanyeol is surprised doesn't crack under the pressure.  
  
Chanyeol takes a break from staring at the short boy - who, on closer inspection, is probably older than he initially seems - and peers over at the thief. His body lies limp on the floor, his eyes closed.  
  
"He's alive," he says in Korean now, much to Chanyeol's surprise. "That wasn't enough to kill him by any means. The police will be arriving soon to do away with this mess."  
  
Chanyeol looks down at the body, and then back up to scan the boy's unimpressed face more closely. His skin is tanned in a countryside kind of way, but his features are delicate despite it - his whole face is a contradiction, and the neat press of his clothes doesn't match with his countrified speech either. "Why did you help me?" Chanyeol asks, waiting for a break in the man's controlled expression.  
  
"Can't a guy just do something out of the goodness of his own heart?" He speaks seriously, until he cracks a smile upon seeing Chanyeol's unconvinced look. "Fine. My grandmother just passed, and for the longest time I thought she was the only family I have. But now I find out I have a distant cousin in Busan."  
  
"And?"  
  
He huffs, annoyed, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "I need to get there but I don't have a passport or any sort of papers. That's where you come in. Get me there and I'll consider us even."  
  
Chanyeol scoffs rather loudly. "As if I'd waste my time on that. I have more pressing issues to attend to-"  
  
"Did I imply that you have a choice, Mr Park?  
  
"What the hell is that supposed- wait." Chanyeol's eyes narrow as he watches the man grin. "How do you know my name?"  
  
"You know, just a routine security check," he says, lifting Chanyeol's bag with two dainty fingers. "A Korean based in Seoul, just what I needed. Now I certainly wouldn't want the local authorities to find this much unexplained, tax-free cash in my bag. Especially not with all these knives here either. Would you?"  
  
Chanyeol looks between the bag and the man, teeth slightly gritted. "You came in and looked through my bag when I was asleep?"  
  
"I did indeed." Chanyeol's mouth drops open in shock as the tiny bastard has the nerve to smile at him. "Now, unless you want to lose half the stuff you came here for, I'd like to get to Busan by the end of the month."  
  
Chanyeol sighs, bending down as if to pull on his boots. He knows the guy's still smiling, so he's more than happy when that fades as soon as he retrieves his revolver from his boot, aiming its silver barrel at the stranger before crowding him into the corner. "Tell me why the hell I shouldn't kill you right now."  
  
"It's illegal-"  
  
"If you're stealing something of the Crown's then I'm well within my rights," Chanyeol almost laughs, a victorious grin setting over his features.  
  
"You can't-"  
  
"You underestimate me, mister," he says, finger hovering over the trigger as his other hand holds the man's jaw tightly. "I've done a lot worse than just getting rid of a petty blackmailer."  
  
"-because I emptied your bullets out, too. So you may want to watch yourself, _mister_ ," he looks up defiantly at Chanyeol's dumbfounded expression, tapping lightly on the bandage around his wrist. "Don't fool yourself into thinking you've got the upper hand here. If you're a man of honour, you will take me to my destination willingly. If you aren't, I'm going to have to force you."  
  
Checking the gun's magazine once more before tucking it into the holster with a sigh, Chanyeol takes two steps back. "At least tell me your name so I know who to curse in my prayers," he says.  
  
"I doubt you even know what the inside of a church looks like," the man snorts. "It's Byun Baekhyun. Pleasure to meet you."  
  
"Park Chanyeol, but you knew that already," he replies, really tugging on his boots now before standing up to his full height once again. "Pleasure's all yours."  
  
"Charming," Baekhyun smirks, and Chanyeol definitely doesn't feel sorry for him now. The man opens the door, turning back to look at his reluctant companion with a sickly-sweet grin. "Shall we?"

 

 

=

 

 

"Do tell me if I missed something, but you're saying that right now you have to take a detour on the way back to Seoul because some Taiwan village boy is blackmailing you into becoming his escort?"  
  
Chanyeol winces. "Please don't say escort. I'm not a prostitute, for God's sake."  
  
"You might as well be considering how royally you've been screwed, my friend," Jongdae's signature cackle can be heard ring clearly through the handset. "You know the deal, you go beyond the borders and we're no longer responsible for what happens to you."  
  
"I'll keep this in mind when you need repairs for your vehicle, you ass." Chanyeol briefly looks around him, making sure there's nobody within earshot. "Anyways, have there been any... updates on the search?"  
  
"It's good you asked, actually," says Junmyeon, taking the phone now. "They found someone who was supposedly a former maid who quit a while before the rebellion. More details have come in regarding his appearance. Pale and smooth skin, brown eyes."  
  
Even though there's no way for him to see it, Chanyeol rolls his eyes on instinct. "Thank you for that information I didn't already know."  
  
He can hear Junmyeon sigh slightly at the end of the line. "Sorry Chanyeol, I forget that you were one of the, what, five people who ever got to see the kid in person? Of course, the circumstances under which that happened are unforgettable-"  
  
"Was there anything else?"  
  
Chuckling slightly at Chanyeol's haste to cut him off on that issue, he clears his throat. "Yes. Apparently the Prince had another mole on the inside of his ear, as well as one somewhere on his ribcage. I know you've been on the lookout for people with moles on their lip or thumb but I think these might be more conclusive."  
  
"So you're basically saying I should start stripping every pretty man I find to check for myself? What do you take me for?"  
  
"I don't know," Jongdae hums in the background. "You _are_ an escort right now, after all."  
  
"I swear to God once I'm back I'm gonna-"  
  
There's a tap on his shoulder, and he turns to see Baekhyun looking bored, his brow twitching with impatience. "Have you finished arguing with your lover yet? The train arrives at Platform 7 in five minutes, and it's quite a walk."  
  
Begrudgingly uttering a goodbye, Chanyeol places the receiver back in the handset and begins to follow Baekhyun out of the booth, who's already started moving, not even bothering to keep the door open for him. "That wasn't my lover, by the way. Just friends."  
  
"I don't know how many of my friends I would feel comfortable discussing stripping random men with, but if you're that close then good for you."  
  
"How much did you hear?" Chanyeol tenses the slightest amount, not even showing it, hurrying down the final steps to the platform. It's tiringly easy to keep up with Baekhyun's smaller strides, but it isn't something he's entirely unused to, since his friends aren't particularly tall either.  
  
"Just that part on. Why? Did you spill some shameful perverted secrets? I'm glad I missed it if that's the case."  
  
Chanyeol feels immediately relieved, and almost even tempted to chuckle. Baekhyun's sense of humour - which he has got to experience plenty of already, just in the time it took to reach the station - is similar to Jongdae's in a way, but somehow more vulgar and less bothered with social etiquette. Maybe it's the rural upbringing; Chanyeol's been a city man his whole life, he wouldn't know.  
  
If it wasn't for the situation, Chanyeol may have even been attracted to the boy. He's handsome, and his eyes have a certain quality to them, as if they're always daring him to do something - even now, when he's making jokes, he's looking at Chanyeol as if he wants him to do it. But then Chanyeol remembers that he's practically his captor, and shouldn't be having lewd thoughts at a time like this. "If it's easier for you to believe that, then sure," he nods, before jutting his chin towards the train. "Now get on."  
  
Baekhyun pulls himself onto the high train step with ease, taking his luggage with him, Chanyeol following suit soon after and taking a lead into the left wing.  
  
"I got us a booth. Around forty-five minutes from now there'll be a ticket check and that's when they'll ask for our IDs. A few minutes before that happens I'll tell you what the plan is, okay?"  
  
"Why don't you just tell me now?" Baekhyun asks, following behind Chanyeol's confident steps slightly more timidly.  
  
"I still need to come up with it," says Chanyeol, avoiding his eyes.  
  
Baekhyun's eyes widen as Chanyeol finally reaches their cabin, opens the door and walks in without looking back. "What? You've brought me here without even having a plan?"  
  
"Correction," Chanyeol shakes his head, pushing his bag under the plush, green leather seats, " _you_ brought _me_ here. And I've never smuggled anyone across borders before, so excuse me for needing time to think of a way."  
  
Baekhyun considers him for a moment, and then the cabin, before taking the seat opposite him. Chanyeol watches as he stares intently out the window with the intense focus of a child figuring out a new toy.  
  
"Is this your first time? On a train."  
  
The man looks at him with a little surprise, before looking back outside, a slight smile on his face this time. "I think so. I certainly can't remember it if it isn't, anyway." He fidgets with his wrist, and Chanyeol catches sight of a sleek silver bracelet peeking just beyond the extent of his shirt. "My grandmother and I lived on the coast of Taiwan, in Xishi. Everything we needed in town was only ever walking distance, and if we ever needed to come to Xiamen we would ferry over."  
  
"That journey couldn't have been cheap," Chanyeol says, following Baekhyun's gaze to where the setting sun reflects a perfect sphere onto the sea.  
  
"It was alright," shrugs Baekhyun, nonchalant. "The family she worked for - she used to be a governess - they left her with a lot of wealth, so I didn't have to work while growing up and we never struggled. We didn't keep maids, though, so the housework fell to me." He tucks a loose strand of hair behind his ear. "I didn't mind it. It was the least I could do for her."  
  
Resting his hand on his chin, Baekhyun, despite the rough condition of his skin, seems to have had an easy life, albeit a rural one, spent in a quaint seaside town where everyone knew each other's names. Chanyeol's earliest memories of childhood were the exact opposite, filled with unfamiliar faces and hopping from capital to capital, job to job.  
  
"What about you? You're a city man, I assume."  
  
He nods. He pulls out the standard story he uses with all strangers, the white lies flowing off his tongue naturally. "I was moved around a lot when I was younger, but I settled in Seoul at 12. I started working for the Crown not too long after."  
  
"The Crown? What's that, a royal family?"  
  
Chanyeol quirks an eyebrow. He's never met someone who doesn't know anything of the Crown, their rise was very hard to miss at the time, but maybe this is just because he's been surrounded by city-folk all his life. "I... Yes, sort of. The old king's half-brother and his family. They're the only survivors of the dynasty so they hold a lot of power, even if some dispute it."  
  
"I see," Baekhyun ponders, his brows furrowing slightly. "So your parents didn't mind you working instead of attending school?"  
  
"My parents wouldn't mind me dying in a ditch, for all I know." He says it casually, and when he finally notices Baekhyun staring at him, alarmed, he does feel a pang of guilt. "Sorry, that came out too harshly. I never knew my parents. They likely had me out of wedlock, I don't blame them for leaving me."  
  
"I'm sure if the circumstances were different they would have kept you," Baekhyun says firmly, and Chanyeol genuinely smiles at this, even though he respectfully disagrees. "So you just lived on the streets before being recruited by the Crown?"  
  
Chanyeol nods. He can count the number of people he had told the full truth about his childhood to on one hand, and Baekhyun certainly isn't someone he'd be confiding in anytime soon.  
  
"I can't imagine being completely on my own like that. I lost my parents in an accident where I was pretty badly hurt too, so I don't remember much about them. But at least I had my grandmother."  
  
This catches Chanyeol's attention. "An accident? What kind?"  
  
"Oh, a car crash," Baekhyun begins to say, before a ringing sound is heard and the distant call of the ticket collector's voice comes into earshot.  
  
"Come on," says Chanyeol, grabbing his bag and hurrying Baekhyun out of the carriage, pulling him by the arm until they reach the public restrooms. With a quick glance to the surroundings, he pushes Baekhyun into one of the cramped bathroom stalls before moving in himself, much to the surprise of the village boy. "Ssh," he says, placing a hand over Baekhyun's mouth before he can make a noise, only millimetres from his own face. "Trust me. Lower the lid and sit on top, move your feet up off the floor."  
  
In the tiny space of the stall any movement has them invading each other's personal space, but Baekhyun doesn't really seem to care much as he leans a hand on Chanyeol's shoulder for support, almost as though he was getting on a horse. He tucks his legs under himself and holds his breath, his eyes looking to Chanyeol with a silent "now what?"  
  
The outside door rattles open, and a few swift steps sound. "Hello, sir? I'm here to collect tickets and check travel documents, could you step out for a moment?"  
  
Chanyeol takes a moment to compose himself, and then begins his act. "I'm very sorry, I - ah, how do I say this - I seem to have eaten some undercooked meat before starting this journey and I'm really not in the position to leave this stall right now. I can hand you the documents and show you my face if I open the door, but I really must beg your pardon, I can't come out."  
  
The ticket collector lets out an embarrassed-sounding huff, which Baekhyun has to hold back his laughter at, before replying, "I understand, sir. Please hand over the documents, if you will." Chanyeol nods at Baekhyun once before squatting slightly, twisting the door open just enough for his hand to push his own papers through. "Ah good, a servant of the Crown. And just a short look at your face for identification-" Chanyeol peeps out of the door and the old man nods, clicking his stamp over the ticket and returning it. "Thank you. I hope that you feel better by the time we arrive in Shanghai."  
  
"Thank you, collector," Chanyeol gives him the trademark smile he uses in every polite encounter, before shutting the door and settling into a look of relief. Once he hears the door close, he turns to Baekhyun, who seems to be on the verge of giggling. "What?"  
  
"You didn't sound anything like you did before, you were so eloquent there, I guess I didn't expect it," he hums. He places his feet flat on the ground again and then stands up, off-balance for a moment before stabilising himself using Chanyeol to hold onto. "And that story - if I didn't know better I would've believed you too. Lying isn't hard for you at all, huh?"  
  
Chanyeol looks down at him. From this close it really takes a concerted effort to do so, to crane his neck at such an angle instead of just glancing down with his eyes. But Baekhyun is doing the same, just looking up instead, bold and defiant as ever. "I mean, I wasn't far off," he says. "You're also a pain in the ass."  
  
Baekhyun's finger pushes into Chanyeol's chest, hard, but he's smiling. "Don't forget I have you under ransom," he has a mischievous grin on his face, lighting all the way up to his eyes.  
  
"Yeah yeah," Chanyeol rolls his eyes, estimating another 10 minutes before the next stop. "Not like you'd let me forget. How's your Mandarin, by the way?"  
  
"Pretty good. I haven't had to use it in a while but I can get by."  
  
Opening the door to the bathroom and checking the hallway for people, Chanyeol ushers Baekhyun back into their cabin before speaking again. "Good. We should be in Shanghai by morning, so practice in your sleep," he locks the cabin door and kicks his shoes off, falling onto the soft leather seat unceremoniously. He groans slightly when he lands on his still healing arm.  
  
"You should be more careful," Baekhyun says. "Get too hurt and things don't heal that easily." He lies back on his own seat, the odd moonbeam leaking through the spaces in the clouds to land on his face. Chanyeol would be lying if he said he wasn't staring; the man is undoubtedly attractive, he'd be remiss to deny it. "I'll apply fresh bandages tomorrow, I took some stuff from the hospital too," he moves onto his side, and Chanyeol has to quickly shift his eyes away, anywhere else so as not to be caught watching. "Goodnight."  
  
"Yeah yeah," says Chanyeol, thanking every God he knows that he turned the lights off already. "Goodnight."

 

 

=

 

 

_Chanyeol feels an arm tugging on his shoulder. He groans, turning over on the bed, the pillows a lot more soft than he’s used to. The tugging gets more and more intense, and eventually he opens his eyes. “What?”  
  
The prince is staring down at him, and he watches his expression shift from annoyance to curiosity in little more than a second.  
  
And then he kisses him.  
  
The servant boy covers his mouth, scandalised. That was his first kiss, though he wouldn’t let the prince know that, of course. He stares at him, sputtering slightly in shock. “Why did you do that?”  
  
“I don’t know,” the prince shrugs, nonchalantly. “Wang So was telling me he had his first kiss at thirteen, did you know that? It was with some princess in Singapore. I wanted to beat him, but since there’s nobody else I could use except you-“  
  
Chanyeol shakes his head, a little hurt. “You shouldn’t just go around kissing people if you don’t really mean it, Prince Eun.”  
  
He just smiles as Chanyeol continues to look flustered. “Who told you I didn’t mean it?”_

 

 

=

 

 

"Hey. Hey, wake up."  
  
Chanyeol feels a tugging on his arm, and his eyes start to blink open just as he notices the warm breath tingling over his skin. Eyes finally focusing he sees Baekhyun's eyes first, too close, and barely tilts his head upwards to kiss him.  
  
"What are you doing?" Baekhyun yells, putting his hand over his mouth before their lips can make contact.  
  
The taller man only shrugs, propping himself up on his forearms slightly. "The last time someone woke me up so closely they were after a kiss. Sue me for assuming you'd be the same."  
  
"I was right earlier, you really are some sort of pervert."  
  
"Did you wake me up just to entrap me?"  
  
Baekhyun points out the window. The view of a bustling platform outside is stationary, but multitudes of people are still getting out of the train. "We're here - Shanghai, it's the last stop on this train," says Baekhyun, holding up his and Chanyeol's bags.  
  
He's changed clothes at some point - now in a more casual ensemble, with a tweed waistcoat replacing his more formal jacket and a pale blue shirt opposed to the white one. He had obviously cleaned himself up at some point too; his skin is clearer, his hair neatly coiffed. Chanyeol thinks he himself probably looks pretty shabby next to him, even though the clothes the Crown provides him with are always stellar.  
  
"Are you gonna keep staring at me or actually get up?" Baekhyun says. "I know your fantasies probably wish to be indulged but we're sort of short on time. There's a ship going to Busan in a few hours, if we get on it we could be at our destination by tonight."  
  
"I don't really understand," says Chanyeol, rubbing the leftover sleep out of his eyes as he slips into his shoes, folding over to tie the laces and ignoring the first part of what Baekhyun just said. "You seem so well-organized already. You've clearly done your research. So why did you need me here?"  
  
"The papers!" Baekhyun replies quickly, but it's clear to him almost immediately that Chanyeol isn't buying it. "And what - I couldn't leave a poor defenceless man with an injury like that to get back home alone. What kind of a man do you take me for?"  
  
Chanyeol looks at him carefully, but seeing the unease on his face, decides not to push for more. "Whatever, I'm not about to force you. But I would like to know the real reason at some point." He stands, pats his trousers down for creases and buttons up his collar again. "Alright, let's go."

 

 

=

 

 

By the time they reach the Port of Shanghai, the sun is already blaring right above them in the midsummer sky. Chanyeol holds his bag close to his chest, knowing the area and its pickpockets well having visited several times. There's enough of a crowd at all times that a thief could easily get away with a crime and nobody would be any wiser. However, the seemingly reckless way Baekhyun flails his own bag around, in his outfit that has him sticking out like a sore thumb, ticks him off more than worries him.  
  
"Hey, listen," Chanyeol says, pulling him in by the arm to mutter into his ear over the noise. "Be a bit more careful, will you?"  
  
"Yeah yeah, whatever," he says, before bumping into a stranger as he turns back. "Oh, sorry-"  
  
"Chanyeol?" The man stops where he is, completely ignoring Baekhyun and instead connecting eyes with the taller man.  
  
There's less than a second of pause before realisation flashes in Chanyeol's eyes and he pushes past Baekhyun, pulling the man into a hug. "Yixing? It's been _years_ , where have you been?"  
  
The man pats Chanyeol's back firmly before stepping back. "Oh, y'know, I had some people who took me in for a bit when I got back to Changsha but I've been here for the past 8 years. How about you, still working for the big guys?  
  
"Yeah, just the usual grind there. Nothing mu-"  
  
Baekhyun coughs loudly on purpose, almost feeling Chanyeol's annoyance tangibly as both men turn towards him.  
  
"Oh, sorry. I don't believe we've met - I'm Zhang Yixing. I'm a childhood friend of Chanyeol's." He puts out a hand, which Baekhyun shakes amicably enough. Yixing turns to Chanyeol and leans in to say to his ear, though it's easily loud enough for Baekhyun to pick up: "you should've told me you were busy. I didn't know you were with somebody-"  
  
"He's just my ticket to Korea, nothing more," Baekhyun clarifies quickly. "Now I know you guys will probably want to reminisce, but I hope you understand we need to be on the next boat to Busan as soon as it arrives."  
  
"Oh? Then you've got a long wait ahead. The ferry workers are on strike until sometime next week, didn't you know? They've been like this for a while, the Crown hasn't been doing its securing the sea correctly apparently." He turns back to his old friend, seemingly ignoring Baekhyun flustered sputtering. "It's just perfect that you'd be in town this week! My new cinema hall is opening for the first time ever tomorrow - I'm even hosting the premiere of this big new talkie that's been making the papers. I'd be honoured if you would be my guest." He holds out a hand.  
  
Chanyeol laughs, taking the hand and tugging him into a hug instead. "Don't be so formal with me now, you know I wouldn't pass this opportunity up! And since I don't have anything to do for a while-" he feels Baekhyun's heel grinding down on his toes and exhales slightly. "By the way, would it be okay if this guy here tagged along? He's not very well-travelled you see, and right now he's in my care."  
  
Yixing looks between the two of them with just a moment of speculation before nodding. "Sure, he can be your plus one, no problem."  
  
"It's not like that-" Chanyeol begins, while Baekhyun seems to start coughing up a lung.  
  
"Oh, sorry. I shouldn't have assumed," he says, but Chanyeol still catches the flash of a smile. It seems to appease Baekhyun enough, though.  
  
"Chanyeol, where are we going to be staying tonight?"  
  
Yixing puts a hand on the taller man's shoulder before he can try and think up an answer. "My place is pretty big - it's got a spare room, if you two don't mind sharing. And of course I won't be charging you either," he smiles, a dimple forming deep into his face, Baekhyun notices. "I'm not about to let an old friend get fleeced by the conmen calling themselves hoteliers around here. Come on, it's nearby," he says, before patting Chanyeol on the back a few times and then walking forward, his hand resting on Chanyeol's neck as they move together, leaving Baekhyun to struggle behind them.

 

 

=

 

 

Yixing's home takes longer to get to than he had made out to be the case, and they end up stopping halfway for lunch. By the time they finally arrive at their destination Baekhyun is wheezing from the effort of carrying his luggage all that way. Yixing finally offers to carry it, at least up the flight of spiral metal stairs twisting around the side of the theatre. The walls smell freshly painted as they wind their way up and into the flat.  
  
"My humble abode," Yixing announces. Chanyeol marvels at the lavish rugs blanketing the floor and grand wooden showpieces filling the space. His friend has surely done well for himself; he can't imagine getting better results if he ever tried the same.  
  
"Nice place, man," is all he can find words to say.  
  
"It's alright for what I've done so far. When I finally get to do my own productions I'm moving on up, but until I can afford to do that this isn't too bad of a place to stay." He takes off his shoes at the entrance before stepping inside. "Well, make yourself comfortable, I'll be starting on dinner soon seeing as we got so late." He goes over to the open kitchen, checking his pantry for ingredients. "Ah, damn. I need to go out and get some more supplies - nothing spicy, Chanyeol, I remember - Baekhyun, do you have any preferences?"  
  
"Just no cucumbers, please," Baekhyun pipes up.  
  
"Got it. I'm sorry about this, I'll be back in no time!" He slams the door shut behind him.  
  
"He sure is a whirlwind," says Baekhyun out loud, and Chanyeol just happens to hear.  
  
"He's a nice guy though, really genuine," he steps carefully on the pristine woven carpet, before perching on one of the printed chairs. "He took care of me a lot when we were younger, since he's a little older and all."  
  
Baekhyun sits on another chair not quite directly opposite him. "You guys met when you were in the Crown, or..."  
  
"No, before that." He hesitates a little, trying to fabricate his past in the few seconds allowed by social conversation. "We were picked off the street and put in the same orphanage. We were basically brothers. But then he decided working for the Crown wasn't for him a few months after we both enrolled, and just left. And I hadn't seen him since, until now." Chanyeol hopes his story his believable, especially since it isn't fully false anyway.  
  
"Well, at least you had a pseudo-brother for a while. I've always wanted an older sibling."  
  
Before Chanyeol can reply the door opens, Yixing entering with a paper bag in each hand. "Alright, anyone up for hotpot? My own special recipe."

 

 

=

 

 

After the meal Baekhyun decides to take a shower, leaving the two old friends to reminisce in the living room. He peels off his bracelet, placing it carefully on a desk just as he had for years, before stripping and entering the bathroom. By the time he gets out the talking has become a lot more sporadic, and he suspects there's some alcohol being shared too. While he does feel a bit offended that they didn't ask him to join them, he knows he'd have probably just been the awkward third wheel to their conversations anyway.  
  
And then he hears it: his name, in one of those conversations they're having. He tiptoes to and leans against the door, an ear against the smooth wooden surface.  
  
"I told you it's not like that."  
  
Yixing laughs, quiet but expressive. "Are you kidding me? He is absolutely your type, though."  
  
Chanyeol stares at him incredulously. "You haven't seen me since we were kids, how do you even know what my type is?"  
  
"I don't know," Yixing shrugs, "I mean, I think he kinda looks like the prince. The paintings I saw of him, anyways."  
  
"You think so?" Chanyeol thinks about it for a moment, but seems to come up blank. "I don't really see it, and I've seen him in person."  
  
"Well, I guess that's that then."  
  
"I guess it is."  
  
Yixing stands, picking up the now empty bottles as he does. "Anyways, you should probably hit the sack - I could use some help with final setup, can I count on you to help?"  
  
"I don't know how useful that guy will be," Baekhyun can almost feel Chanyeol's stare even through the door, "but I'll definitely do what I can."  
  
"Thanks. Well, goodnight."  
  
Footsteps begin to approach the door and Baekhyun retreats quickly, sitting cross-legged on the futon and pretending to dry his hair by the time Chanyeol enters the room.  
  
"What are you doing on the futon?"  
  
Baekhyun looks at him, confused. "I'm going to sleep here, obviously."  
  
"You should take the bed," Chanyeol says, crossing the room while taking off his jacket. "I'm guessing you're not too used to slumming it, but I've had to sleep on much harder floors than this. Come on, get up."  
  
Instead of doing so, Baekhyun stares up at Chanyeol indignantly. "I can handle a futon," he says, crossing his arms.  
  
"Suit yourself," Chanyeol shrugs, turning and landing on the bed unceremoniously. He flinches when he brushes against the still-healing wound on his arm, and the slight intake of air he let out has Baekhyun moving to his side quickly.  
  
"I almost forgot - do you know how to change bandages?" When Chanyeol shakes his head no he hurries to his bag, retrieving a small medical kit including bandages seemingly from the hospital they were at just a few hours earlier. In fact, Chanyeol _does_ know how to change bandages, he'd gotten into enough fights in his life to know, but he quite likes the tone Baekhyun takes on when it comes to these things. Unravelling the fabric with steely attention, Baekhyun doesn't seem deterred by the harsh red blisters, taking an antiseptic out of the kit and popping the cap open with his teeth.  
  
Chanyeol flinches as soon as it touches his skin, a sharp sting running up his arm. Baekhyun says nothing, applying a healthy amount of antibiotic cream to the area. His fingers are smooth, unlike Chanyeol's own rough ones when they skirt over his skin.  
  
He's focused, and Chanyeol peers at his expression in brief moments, not wanting to be caught, especially not at his proximity.  
  
"You have a scar here already."  
  
Chanyeol freezes, instinctively. Other people had seen his scar before, it wasn't exactly something you could hide, but they could guess where it had come from and didn't mention it. "Childhood accident," is all he offers up as an explanation, hoping Baekhyun won't push it any further.  
  
Unaware of his thought process, Baekhyun finishes wrapping his arm up with a clean bandage, looking up only to meet his eyes directly. "All done," he says, not making much effort to move. Instead Chanyeol pulls back first, not noticing Baekhyun's disappointed expression as he returns to the futon. Chanyeol's reach extends just far enough from the bedside that he can turn off the electric lamp with a hushed "night," masking them in darkness.  
  
"Night," Baekhyun says back from his spot on the floor.

 

 

=

 

 

_”How did you do it this time?”  
  
The court physician lets out a tired puff of air as he examines Chanyeol’s arm, cleaning up some of the blood. “Jongdae tried to swipe some of my pocket money, so I punched him, and then we started fighting.”  
  
“Oh, what will we do with you boys,” he shakes his head. “I think His Majesty didn’t think it through fully when he took you all in. You’re a terrible influence on the young prince.”  
  
“I think I can speak for myself, doctor,” says the prince, watching closely as the physician works on the bandage. “His injuries allow me to see first aid in action instead of just reading about it. Wouldn’t you say that’s a positive impact on my education?”  
  
Chanyeol laughs, biting his tongue when the doctor gives him a stern look. “I’ll be having a word with His Majesty about this, I’ll let you know.” He leaves the room with one more hard glance, but as soon as he’s out both children burst out into laughter.  
  
“But what if he’s serious, Prince Eun?” Chanyeol asks, remnants of laughter still slipping out. “What if His Majesty has me taken away from you?”  
  
“Father wishes for my happiness over all else,” Wang Eun says, grabbing his arm and giggling slightly when he flinches. “So that means you’ll never leave me."_

 

 

=

 

 

The next morning Chanyeol awakes with a heavy numbness in his uninjured arm, and when his eyelids eventually force themselves open, he's met with Baekhyun's sleeping face mere millimetres from his own. He manages to hold back the yell he instinctively wants to let out, and instead examines the boy's face in the fleeting moments he won't be judged for it, making up for last night. His features are densely packed in a small space: his eyelashes are long, his nose is slender yet somehow also button-like, and his lips droop in a very particular way that Chanyeol's seen on people only a few times. He has a mole on the corner of his upper lip - Chanyeol had noticed this on their first encounter, but couldn't see the mole in his ear that he knew the prince had. Many people have moles in that spot, it isn't the conclusive evidence he needs. And regardless, the boy's skin is tanned and even lightly scarred in some places. He had lived a privileged life up until now, sure, but it was not a sheltered one; if there's anything to shatter his suspicion of Baekhyun being the lost prince, it's this.  
  
He is also definitely his type, but the less he thinks about that the better.  
  
"You call me a pervert, but you're the one who seems more than happy to hop into bed with a stranger. What, did you decide the futon wasn't for you after all? You could've asked, I'd have swapped. Or was your pride getting in the way?"  
  
Baekhyun blinks a few times before shaking his head, seemingly unfazed by his proximity to the other man. He takes a moment before answering, though. "There were rats, I didn't want to catch diseases, y'know. And you're always out like a log as soon as you hit a bed, it's a marvel really. I'd have felt bad if I had to wake you up from that."  
  
"Well isn't that sweet," Chanyeol says sardonically. "The man blackmailing me into smuggling him into another country still cares about my beauty sleep."  
  
Baekhyun shrugs. "You could leave anytime you want, just take the bag while I'm asleep and run. Don't say you haven't considered it," he stares at Chanyeol, who doesn't deny it. "But the fact that you're still here means you've come to like me, at least a little."  
  
"More like took pity on you, maybe," Chanyeol yawns, stretching his arms up and behind his back as he sits up. "Also hoping for a big reward from some wealthy relatives for delivering you to them safely."  
  
Baekhyun rolls his eyes, standing up and fixing his shirt. There's a knock on the door before Yixing peeks his head in, apparently almost ready to leave.  
  
"Hey you two, breakfast's ready," he begins, very quickly. "I suggest you get dressed and everything before it gets cold. The opening is tonight, so there's a lot of work to do but there'll be enough time to get ready for the show later. So just, y'know," he taps his watch, "hurry it up a little."  
  
He then pulls the door shut quickly, and Baekhyun pauses a moment, trying to register everything, before turning to Chanyeol. "Is he always that fast? Yesterday too, when he met you, he seems to go a million miles an hour."  
  
"I'd say it's just that he cuts the pleasantries out. The fact that it's not his own language doesn't help," Chanyeol chuckles, "but more than that I think it's because he doesn't say unnecessary crap even under pressure. He's very direct, no matter who he talks to." He stops to lace his boots, and Baekhyun takes the brief moment to pull on a new shirt. "It's refreshing, especially when you have to deal with as many ass-kissing colleagues as I do."  
  
"There's a lot of that with the Crown?"  
  
"Tons. I probably shouldn't say this, but very few people working for them actually agree with what they're doing," he stands to his full height. "They're just there because they have mouths to feed."  
  
"And you?"  
  
"Let's just say I need a way to get by as well," he says. "Not everyone can be an entrepreneur like Yixing."  
  
"I guess not," Baekhyun replies, fully ready now. He looks to Chanyeol, who is also fully kitted up. "Well, let's not keep him waiting."

 

 

=

 

 

It's busy, maybe even busier than the port, with people moving frantically around the theatre with heavy equipment in hand and impatience in their steps. Yixing is shouting directions, his voice barely just audible over the bustle. Baekhyun's never seen a theatre so lively, even when he's gone to see a new exciting blockbuster on its opening weekend. Chanyeol is notably less impressed. "So what do you want us to do here, exactly?"  
  
"Well, how about you go and secure the perimeter? There's some pretty esteemed guests and I need to assure them of their safety, of course." He briefly glances at Baekhyun, who's mostly just watching everything around him in a dazed state. "Maybe take him with you, Chanyeol?"  
  
Chanyeol sighs, tapping on Baekhyun's shoulder before starting off towards one of the side doors. Baekhyun stumbles forward, taking hold of Chanyeol's wrist with seemingly no cares at all. Chanyeol thinks it'd be childish to try and shake him off in such an environment.  
  
Yixing smiles to himself. "Not his type, yeah right."  
  
The two of them make it to the door, and Baekhyun lets go as soon as there's no crowd. "It's wild in there," he pants slightly. "What's the rush? It's just a theatre."  
  
Chanyeol goes to the air vent on the wall, kneeling to peer inside it. "It's a new type of talkie - this one has full songs in it and all, like a musical. The equipment they need isn't cheap," he says into the grate, satisfied that it's clear, "and it's not easy to use either."  
  
"What's a talkie," Baekhyun replies simply, utterly confused.  
  
"Are you serious?" He raises an eyebrow. "You haven't heard of The Jazz Singer?" Baekhyun shakes his head. "Oh, well," Chanyeol rubs at the back of his own neck as he walks down the corridor. "It's like any other film, but instead of hearing the orchestra and reading the titles, there's full sound played with the film through a phonograph. It's been great for viewers, not so nice to all actors though."  
  
"Why's that?" Baekhyun says as he watches Chanyeol examining both sides of one of the doors.  
  
"Well - there's actors like Do Kyungsoo from this movie who can speak well and even sing, who can make it work. Then there's people like his co-star Son Hwayoung, who sounds terrible singing in real life. Her agent says she's been taking voice lessons, but if you ask me they just had someone else do it for her."  
  
"That poor person, not getting recognized for their own voice," says Baekhyun.  
  
"Eh, I don't think it's too bad," Chanyeol shrugs. "They get to do what they love and still live a normal life. Not to mention the money is nothing to sneeze at."  
  
Baekhyun just stares at Chanyeol's back for a moment as he tries the fire exit door, opens it and steps out, before quickly following behind himself. "You really care about money." It's not a question.  
  
The back alleyway is quite dark for the time of day, the only respite from the looming clouds of an impending storm being a stale yellow streetlight somewhere distant, offering only a dim light. Chanyeol leans up against the wall, retrieving a cigarette from the packet of Marlboro's in his pocket, and lighting it between his teeth with a Crown-brand lighter. "Not more than any average guy on the street, I'd say. Most of us don't have the privilege of being able to not care, as unfortunate as that is."  
  
There's a silent pause before Baekhyun speaks again, quietly. "You smoke?"  
  
"Yeah. Is there a problem?"  
  
Baekhyun shakes his head, going mute again. But after half a minute or so of standing next to Chanyeol as he takes slow drags, he begins coughing, slightly at first and then more severely. Chanyeol stops, putting the cig out with his foot as Baekhyun begins to wheeze, desperately struggling to get something out of his pocket. Chanyeol stops his arm before reaching inside himself, and pulling out a small metal cylinder with a pump attached to one end. Baekhyun takes the object from his hand and holds it to his mouth, finally taking a deep breath, panting weakly when he eventually pulls it away.  
  
"What just happened? What is that?"  
  
Baekhyun takes a few more moments to calm down before speaking. "Y'know nebulizers?" He inhales. "Those things they use to funnel drugs into you at hospitals?" Chanyeol nods. "Well this is one I designed for myself when I'm travelling, for my asthma. It used to be a lot worse when I was younger, but now I only need when I go to big cities. It's not as strong as a hospital nebulizer, though, so I have to be careful."  
  
"You should’ve told me," Chanyeol says, maybe slightly angry. "When I asked if there was a problem you should've told me there was and I wouldn't have done it."  
  
The look on Baekhyun's face is barely visible in the lighting, but his voice sounds almost confused. "I don't know - you hadn't smoked even once throughout all this time we'd been travelling, I thought you'd want to-"  
  
"I did want to," says Chanyeol, wondering why he feels so frustrated suddenly. "But if you told me I would've stopped." He closes his eyes and exhales. "I have enough patience to wait until you're not around to smoke. You don't have to pity me on that front, I have a choice, you don't."  
  
Baekhyun just watches him, staying silent.  
  
The streetlight begins to flicker slightly, and the light pattering of raindrops fills the silence enveloping them. After what feels like forever, Chanyeol turns around and opens the door, standing with his leg propping it open and waiting for Baekhyun to step inside. Once he does, Chanyeol checks the surroundings carefully before allowing the door to swing shut behind him.

 

 

=

 

 

Once they've finished surveying the area they return to the main lobby, where the crowd has dramatically decreased. A plush red carpet adorns the floor, brass and velvet railings on each side, the concessions stand neat and orderly and the ticket booth ready to go. Yixing is nowhere to be found, and upon asking one of the workers still there, the two are told to return to Yixing's apartment, which he has already left for.  
  
"You sure took your time, didn't you," Yixing says as he lets them in. He's already in his suit, waistcoat buttoned and just his tie and cufflinks waiting to be fastened. "Come on in, you guys need to get ready, quickly."  
  
After showering, Baekhyun quickly gets into the finest clothes he's carried with him - a grey pinstripe waistcoat and trousers with a long-fitted coat. As he's tying his shoelaces, he suddenly feels a distinct lack of something. Standing up swiftly in realisation, he begins searching the tables of the rooms, becoming frantic the more he searches to no avail.  
  
"Looking for this?" He hears a voice, and when he turns to where it came from he sees Yixing leaning in the doorway. He's fully ready now, his hair gelled handsomely, his suit looking pristine. He has his right hand raised, and looped around his fingers is Baekhyun's silver bracelet. "Here."  
  
"Why did you have it," Baekhyun asks, already closing the distance and reaching for it. He scowls when Yixing clasps it firmly and moves it out of reach, snatching it out of his palm when he opens it again, and slides it onto his own wrist.  
  
"I was curious as to whose it was - I thought, surely Chanyeol can't afford something so lavish, and lo and behold, there was your name engraved straight into the silver." He smiles as Baekhyun continues to glare at him suspiciously. "Listen, I was looking out for you. You can't be leaving precious things out and about like that, it's not unusual for there to be burglaries in this neighbourhood, you know."  
  
The bathroom door opens while Baekhyun is still eyeing Yixing suspiciously. "Hey, did my suit get here?" Chanyeol calls out to Yixing from across the room, blissfully unaware of the tense atmosphere.  
  
"It has," confirms Yixing, his voice trailing off as he goes to receive a package from the drawing room before returning and throwing it into Chanyeol's arms. "That's one thing I do miss about the Crown, they'll always make sure you're looking classy no matter where you are."  
  
"Well they have to make sure they're being represented well, right? So it's a bonus," says Chanyeol, taking his towel off casually to change into the all-black attire. Baekhyun averts his eyes, and Yixing has to hold back a chuckle. "You have the cinema open now - that's great and everything, but - hey, do you have any wax?" Yixing gestures toward a small tin sat atop the dark wooden dressing table holding up the mirror. "Right, so... all those years you had to struggle to save up for all this," he styles his hair carefully, twisting the front on one side into looking longer than the other, his trademark look, "you never once thought about coming back?"  
  
Baekhyun feels just as he did back on the pier, like an uninvited guest. He guesses that's exactly what he is, really, but at least now he's more interested in finding out what happened in this shared past of theirs.  
  
"I did think about it," Yixing says, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe again. "I thought about it a lot. But I couldn't justify going back, not after what happened to His and Her Majesty, and especially what happened to the kids."  
  
For some reason this makes Baekhyun's senses perk up. He has no idea what they're talking about, but he feels desperately like he should know, like he of all people ought to know. He racks his brain for it, but maintains a straight face. For some reason he feels like things could take a turn if he displayed a big reaction to that.  
  
He catches Chanyeol's eyes dart towards him from the very corner of his vision, just for a split-second before looking straight back at Yixing. "Yeah, well. We should-" he clears his throat, "we should go, it's getting to be time, right?"  
  
"It is!" Yixing's eyes widen, and he taps his watch quickly. "Come along, come on. Take an umbrella on the way out - it's drizzling now but I won't be shocked if there's a downpour soon." Before he finishes speaking, the trill ring of his telephone sounds through the air. "Oh, what is it now?" He goes to pick it up, saying "you two go on ahead," over his shoulder. They both nod, moving towards the door, and the only thing they hear Yixing say to the call is quite a loud " _what?!_ " before they step outside.  
  
"What happened?" Chanyeol asks when Yixing finally joins them again outside, looking noticeably anxious.  
  
"Turns out we'll be receiving some unexpected guests," he sighs. They step quickly down the stairs, 2 umbrellas between the 3 of them, Yixing moving faster, almost running down the slippery walkway with the smaller one.  
  
Before Chanyeol can catch up and ask him who, an extremely ornate Rolls appears at the foot of the red carpet, the Flying Lady perched upon the hood of the car appearing to be made of solid gold. Realisation strikes before the chauffeur even steps out to open the door, and Chanyeol stands at attention, awaiting the new guest.  
  
The man who steps out first is older, at least in his 60s. Despite his age he seems to not be balding at all, but his face is marred with permanent stress lines; his eyes are quite small but obviously attentive. His outfit is very simple compared to the car he stepped out of, Baekhyun notices. Chanyeol obviously seems tense, and Baekhyun wonders who the man is. He doesn't have much time to think however, because another man steps out soon after. This man is taller, and looks-wise, the complete opposite of his companion. His skin is smooth and youthful, his eyes bigger, his body slimmer and his outfit more elaborate. It seems to be almost militaristic, and something about the medals over the left breast pocket seems so familiar to Baekhyun, though he can't understand why. He's a little startled when he sees Chanyeol bow before the young man, as he's clearly younger than both of them. He feels a jab to the side from Chanyeol before doing the same.  
  
"Your Majesty," Yixing bows as the two men approach the entrance. "Minister Lee. It's an honour that you graced my cinema's opening, thank you."  
  
"Well, you are an old friend of the Crown," the older man laughs, his low voice rumbling in his throat. "And there's business to be done nearby regardless. Not to mention, when His Majesty heard his favourite actor would be attending he couldn't resist the opportunity."  
  
Both the man and Yixing are smiling, but Baekhyun senses a very tense atmosphere there, like electric wires in the unspoken words. There is something very off, and Chanyeol obviously knows it too, because he is soon up and approaching them.  
  
"Your Majesty, Mr Lee," he says warmly, bowing. The younger man perks up a little, looking slightly surprised.  
  
"Ah, Chanyeol, isn't it? What are the odds of meeting you here," the Minister grins more sincerely this time, patting Chanyeol on the shoulder jovially.  
  
"Well, the reach of the Crown does go far."  
  
Chanyeol gives him a very strange sort of smile then - it's a very formal one, a polite one, that would look absolutely legitimate to anyone who hasn't seen his real one. Judging by the look on the Minister's face, Baekhyun assumes he's aware of it.  
  
"I was on my way back from a mission actually, but as you must know the sailors are on strike."  
  
The boy Baekhyun decides must be the prince has an almost alarmed look as he turns towards the older man, but before he can say anything the Minister silences him with a gesture to calm down. "Ah yes, with His Majesty the King's ill health these last few weeks the whole operation has gone to shambles." He motions to the boy, who looks mostly stoic again but also slightly annoyed. "We've been preparing for the Crown Prince's coronation, you see. With such a big event it's difficult to keep track of trivial matters."  
  
Chanyeol nods. "So, His Majesty the King is..."  
  
"Yes, unfortunately. The court physician says he has a few weeks left at most." He takes a step closer to Chanyeol, almost leaning into his ear, his expression suddenly dead serious. "Which is why it is imperative that the youngest Wang son is found immediately."  
  
Baekhyun couldn't hear what was said, but he sees Chanyeol's small nod and the other boy's furrowed brows. Then suddenly all the eyes are on him, the Minister turning to him and reassuming his air of cheerfulness. "And who might you be?"  
  
"He's just a friend I met in Xiamen, Sir," Chanyeol replies for him, before he can open his mouth. "He's going home to Busan, so we decided to travel together."  
  
"And how lucky you are, to have happened upon each other and now be attending such a prestigious premiere!" The Minister laughs loudly, and Baekhyun too forces a smile. The man makes him uncomfortable already, though he's not sure why. "Well, if you would be so kind as to take us to our seats, His Majesty can become comfortable."  
  
"Of course," Yixing bows again, leading the two through the large wooden doors and into the theatre hall. Chanyeol lets out a huge sigh of relief once they're out of earshot.  
  
"Do you have to deal with that every day?" Baekhyun asks.  
  
"Oh God no," tousling his hair slightly, Chanyeol shakes his head. "If I had to I'd have gone mad by now. The Prince is fine, it's Minister Lee people tend to be careful around. Luckily I've only met him a handful of times, when we both happened to be at the Palace, as rare as that is."  
  
Before Baekhyun can wonder what Minister Lee has done to warrant such reactions, Yixing has returned to the lobby; just as another car appears at the front right on cue, a barrage of cameras now ready to plaster these photographs all over tomorrow's morning papers.  
  
The doorman opens the door, and two people enter, a handsome man in an impeccably fitted tuxedo and slightly heeled shoes, arm in arm with a beautiful woman donning a jade green dress, her hairpiece delicately balanced on her ruby red tresses.  
  
"The man and lady of the hour," Yixing exclaims, sounding genuine in his excitement this time.  
  
"Please, Yixing, don't be so formal," the man smiles, taking Yixing's handshake and pulling him into a hug instead.  
  
"Chanyeol, Baekhyun, this is Do Kyungsoo, lead actor for The Singing Fool. But I'm sure you know that already," he says, before someone clears their throat and his expression drops.  
  
"And this is Son Hwayoung, the lead actress. I'm sure you've heard plenty about her as well."  
  
"Nice to meet you," she smiles, putting forward a satin gloved hand, expecting.  
  
Chanyeol looks at her for a second before coming to his senses, taking her hand and kissing it, saying, "the pleasure's all mine". She then offers her hand to Baekhyun, who does the same after a moment of hesitance.  
  
"You two are both so polite, so well-mannered. I must say you're better than a certain someone," she says, not so discreetly glaring at Yixing from the corner of her eye. "Anyways, I think we should be going in now. Mr Zhang, please make yourself useful and lead us to our seats, will you? These two boys can join us."  
  
"What did you do to piss her off," Chanyeol asks once they're about two steps behind the star pair.  
  
"Nothing. I just didn't treat her like royalty, and I guess she wasn't used to that." Baekhyun smirks slightly at the thought. He leads them into the dark room, where rows and rows of plush velvet chairs are arranged for optimal viewing comfort. The Minister and the Prince are sat in a special section near the top, slightly elevated from where they can see everything going on and still be obscured from anyone not actively seeking them out. Yixing seats the actors in their VIP spots and turns around. "You can sit wherever you want. I need to be outside to usher in the rest of the VIPs, but make yourselves comfortable and feel free to order some confectionaries, alright? I'll be right back."  
  
He rushes out of the room, moving at his usual pace. There's a thin silence that lasts only a few moments before more people begin to enter, and slowly the theatre fills up with maybe a hundred people or so. Once everyone's settled Yixing returns.  
  
"Ladies and gentlemen," he claps his hands together once, "today is a very important day, as you all likely know. Not only is it the premiere for the soon to be blockbuster hit The Singing Fool, but it is also the opening day for my theatre here in Shanghai. I am incredibly grateful for this opportunity, and I hope that things only get better from here on out." There's light applause from the audience, and he waits for it to end. "Anyways, enough about me. It's now time for the film, so I hope you enjoy!"  
  
The lights begin to dim as the curtains are pulled aside. Chanyeol turns to Baekhyun, who looks more than a little in awe at everything happening around him. He looks back at the screen, a grin now on his face.

 

 

=

 

 

After the film ends and the actors take their bows, the male lead, Do Kyungsoo, approaches Chanyeol and Baekhyun. "Would you like to join us at the after-party? Hwayoung really hopes you'll come."  
  
They look to Yixing, who's scrambling about nearby, for permission. "Go ahead," he says nonchalantly. "The royals have left, but I still have some sorting out to do. You go on ahead, though."  
  
Though Chanyeol hesitates, the air of excitement surrounding Baekhyun is unavoidable. "Okay, we'll take you up on that."  
  
"Excellent," Kyungsoo claps. "Miss Son's riverfront villa isn't too far from here, you can travel with us," he says, leading them to a large car.  
  
Sprawling over an immense piece of riverbed, Miss Son's villa is second only to the Royal Palace in terms of grandeur, at least of the houses Chanyeol's been to. The chauffeur parks the car in the garage, and the group of four make their way over the stone pebble walkway towards the building, a polished white stone structure amidst the dark surroundings. There are already lights bursting from the windows and the swinging rhythm of a jazz band erupting from the house. "I always insist my parties start before I arrive," says Miss Son, louder than usual so as to be heard as they approach the noise. "It's always so much easier to socialise when your guests already drunk and you're just starting to get tipsy. And of course, it never hurts to be fashionably late."  
  
They arrive at the door and are immediately confronted with tray after tray of drinks and food, well-dressed and beautiful women complimenting Miss Son on the hosting she hasn't yet started and rich bachelors already trying to make advances. Chanyeol glances at Baekhyun. He himself has been to parties like this before, banquets at the Palace and such, but it's always been on work. Now he finally gets to enjoy one of the ridiculously fun parties he always had to bear witness to back at the Palace. But when he looks at Baekhyun, unlike at the theatre, the man seems wholly unimpressed. For some reason he almost feels a sense of vicarious disappointment because of that, but he quickly shakes it off as they take a glass of champagne each and step inside.  
  
There are people everywhere, all impeccably fashioned in bright and loud clothing, moving freely and rhythmically as the big band transition into a swing tune, horns blaring, with the sax prominent over all. It takes some considerable swerving and ducking to avoid spilling his drink, and it doesn't take too long at all for Chanyeol to end up losing his companions in the crowd.  
  
Baekhyun doesn't know much about this music - most of what he had growing up were the lessons he had taken at school and the off-key attempts at trot from his grandmother - but whatever it is, he knows he likes it. He takes the alcohol down in one gulp, reaching for another glass as a waiter passes by. He's halfway through it when he spots Miss Son circling her way back around to his vicinity and, realising Chanyeol is nowhere around, works up the courage to approach her.  
  
"Hello- Baekhyun, was it?" she smiles, clearly not entirely sober anymore by the looks of the glass in her hand, but far from out of it. She glances around them, seemingly interested in something else. "Where's your friend? What was his name..."  
  
"I'm not sure where Chanyeol's gone," Baekhyun grins at her half-heartedly. Any semblance of interest she may have in Chanyeol would surely disappear with one look in his bank account, so he thinks it'd be better to save him the trouble. "I have a question, though, regarding the premiere earlier tonight."  
  
She stiffens slightly. "If this is about my voice I'll have you know that it was absolutely my own, and I have been taking vocal lessons for months in preparation for this role. If you want to discuss it further I can put you in contact with my lawyer-"  
  
"It's not about that," Baekhyun interrupts, patience running thin. "I wanted to know why Minister Lee and the Prince attended so unannounced."  
  
"Oh, that." She relaxes slightly, taking a sip of her drink. "Officials have been appearing at every film premiere across the subcontinent, you know," Hwayoung says, glancing at her surroundings to make sure she's not overheard. "Rumour has it the King's sudden health problems come from poisoning, from rebels," she takes another sip as Baekhyun's eyes widen. "And since he's dying there's more people than ever believing that old prince is still alive somewhere. So now the Crown's paranoid and checking for traitorous messages in everything. It's such a hassle," she yawns.  
  
"The old prince?" Baekhyun begins to ask, only for her to be swept away to talk to some socialites on the other side of the room, their immaculate dresses shimmering softly under the lights. He downs the rest of the champagne and reaches for another, before stepping outside for some fresh air.  
  
The pier is dimly lit, the light pouring out from the doorway of the mansion providing most of the illumination. Baekhyun's vision is hazy as he takes another drink - while he was allowed alcohol at home his grandmother never allowed him so much at a time, so his tolerance is lower than most, he thinks. Twinkling boats jet across the Riviera, and Baekhyun is watching one of them when he senses someone join his side.  
  
"Are you okay?" He asks, and Baekhyun turns to look at him. It's Kyungsoo, sporting a glass of what looks like whiskey but looking altogether more sober.  
  
"I'm fine," Baekhyun replies, "just needed some time to breathe." He places his hands on the railing coming up from the boardwalk, trying to hold back a little bile coming up in the back of his throat.  
  
Kyungsoo smiles. "I empathize, completely. These types of parties aren't really my scene, but Miss Son would take offense if I declined her invitation. Say," he pauses, his cursory glance now fixed upon Baekhyun's wrist. "That bracelet you're wearing. Where did you get it?"  
  
"This?" Baekhyun holds it up, and Kyungsoo squints at it pointedly. "It's a family heirloom."  
  
Kyungsoo nods, looking back into the distance and not replying. After a few moments his name is heard being called over the buzz of the crowd. "Well, looks like I'm needed back inside," the actor says, patting Baekhyun on his shoulder. "Sorry I couldn't keep you company for longer. Hope you feel better soon."  
  
It happened so quick that Baekhyun could hardly register it, but by the time he could focus again Kyungsoo was already long gone. He sits down on the grass, pulling out his nebulizer and taking a pump. After roughly 15 more minutes pass, he decides he's ready to return to the party. As soon as he turns around, however, he's met with another man immediately in front of him, though the look on his face seems less than cordial. Not even a moment later he's grabbed Baekhyun's wrist and is pulling him somewhere.  
  
"Hey, get off me!" Baekhyun yells, trying the methods he'd learnt for self-defence, albeit less coordinated, in his drunken state. They seem futile however, as this man is much bigger and also somehow knows how to counter every single tactic Baekhyun tries to employ.  
  
There's a click of a gun being loaded, and the man suddenly stops. "Let him go," says Chanyeol, pointing directly at the man. The man does nothing and says nothing, just glaring at Chanyeol angrily. "Let him go," Chanyeol repeats, voice lower now, "or I will blow your God damn brains out."  
  
The man stares for another second before releasing his grip on Baekhyun, leaving him to fall to the grassy floor as he makes a quick turn and runs. Chanyeol moves quickly to Baekhyun's side, passing him the nebulizer that's he's reaching for. "I'm fine," Baekhyun gasps, "go catch him!"  
  
"It's not worth it," Chanyeol says, helping the man get back to his feet, offering a shoulder for support. "These fancy parties attract dozens of petty kidnappers like him. They're amateurs, and the police usually find them before a ransom can even be demanded. I'll call the police tomorrow and let them know." His spare arm curls around Baekhyun's slim waist, holding him tightly when he almost falls. "Your health at the moment is a bigger priority."  
  
By the time they arrive at the front driveway Baekhyun is strewn all over Chanyeol, who is somehow more tired than he already was. His Crown suit is of course recognisable, and so Chanyeol had ended up in lots of conversations with vapid men and women wanting to know how the other side lives. What was meant to be his first shot at a work-free grand party had turned into just another day at work, just without his friends to keep him company, although with admittedly better food. Baekhyun on the other hand had to be practically pried off the floor. Kyungsoo, also still sober, hails a taxi for them back to Yixing's place, and as the car pulls out they notice people walking barefoot along the pier, dipping their toes in the water, some on the verge of falling in. Another man sits in a car, attempting to drive off, only to be thwarted by the lack of wheels on said car.  
  
"Hey," Chanyeol whispers, shaking Baekhyun slightly where he had fallen asleep on his shoulder. "Other than the end, did you enjoy the party? Miss Son is quite famous for them."  
  
Baekhyun burps quite loudly before answering. "The music was good, and the drinks kept coming, which was also good," he yawns. "But everything else was so fake."  
  
"I'm not quite sure what you mean," Chanyeol asks as the car begins weaving through the central city again, careening past dive bars with equally drunk people hobbling out of them.  
  
"All that - it was all for show. Miss Son maybe only knows a quarter of those people's, the guests', first names," he mumbles, "and the ones she really cares about are even fewer. But because she has an image to protect she feels like she has to do all this."  
  
"If I had that kind of cash I think entertaining a few strangers would be a light trade-off," Chanyeol laughs, but Baekhyun doesn't go along with it. "Regardless, you seemed more than happy to get drunk at her expense so I don't know if you're one to talk." Now ignoring him completely, Baekhyun begins to sing one of the songs from the film they had watched. It had suited Kyungsoo's timbre, but Baekhyun's voice brought a lot of elements not there originally, even ones Chanyeol had never heard any professional singer use. He has a talent, Chanyeol decides; having to grasp through slurry pronunciations and bad diction is just a side-effect of the alcohol talking.  
  
The man is already half-conscious again, and lugging him up the stairs is a challenge even for Chanyeol with his active lifestyle. The outside door is unlocked, and there's a muffled sound of a shower running. Chanyeol makes a beeline to the guest room, practically dragging Baekhyun until he ends up mostly on the floor.  
  
"Come on, get up," Chanyeol grunts as he pulls Baekhyun's heavy body onto the bed. Just as he's managed to get him all on there he's pulled in by Baekhyun's arms, which are still surprisingly strong. Chanyeol shifts his weight onto his hands, pushing himself up from where he'd practically collapsed onto Baekhyun's body.  
  
But Baekhyun's having none of that, pulling him in again. "Let's give the pervert what he wanted all along," Baekhyun slurs, fingers curling into Chanyeol's shirt, and before Chanyeol can realise what's happening Baekhyun is kissing him, sloppily but unashamed; holding on for just long enough before letting go, falling back on the bed in an uneventful way.  
  
"You're drunk, Baekhyun" Chanyeol says, pushing him off of him when he tries to kiss him again. Baekhyun's shirt untucks itself from his trousers, and the skin under Chanyeol's fingers is soft and pliant as he holds him at a distance.  
  
"Maybe," Baekhyun sing-songs into his sleeve, not an ounce of regret on his face. "To be honest, I've wanted to do that since I first saw you," he slurs. "You're really handsome, y'know that?"  
  
"Is that why you always end up watching me sleep?" Chanyeol sits back on his haunches, continuously having to smack Baekhyun's hands away from his zipper. "Baekhyun, stop."  
  
The boy pouts, but then aims for his lips again, furrowing his face into Chanyeol's neck when the taller dodges. "That wasn't the reason, though it didn't hurt," he smiles, teething at the skin. "You say things in your sleep, y'know."  
  
"What?"  
  
"We should put those handcuffs you have in your bag to good use," Baekhyun says when Chanyeol holds him in place in front of him. After watching his serious expression in silence for a moment, Baekhyun starts giggling, until Chanyeol's impatience has him finally stopping to answer. "You talk in your sleep, pretty much every time. I don't understand some of the words, but for some reason it all sounds so familiar. Like I've heard it before," he drawls, rolling over in bed until he's face down.  
  
He shakes the drunken man's shoulder slightly. "What did I say, Baekhyun, please tell me," he pleads, only to be answered with Baekhyun running to the bathroom, the sounds of retching, and the realisation that he won't receive a reply for a while yet. Chanyeol considers himself. He doesn't recall ever being a sleep-talker, and the dreams and nightmares that plague his sleep he has no recollection of.  
  
Hearing the ticking of the clock on the wall as it strikes 3 in the morning has Chanyeol deciding he can sort all this out in the morning. With this he leans back in bed, thinking it fruitless to break his back sleeping on the floor, since he'll wake up with Baekhyun beside him regardless.

 

 

=

 

 

_”You bought this for me?”  
  
Chanyeol blushes, nodding, legs crossed as he sits next to the prince. He had hidden the present from the other servant boys – he would never hear the end of it if he was discovered. “Yes, Prince Eun. For St Valentine’s.”  
  
“You’re a fool, Chanyeol,” the boy says, opening the box and taking out a sweet. “I can get these things whenever I want, and you only get so much pocket money. You should have bought a book or something for yourself – don’t you have a Mandarin exam soon?”  
  
He nods, feeling ashamed that Wang Eun hadn’t seemed to be impressed by the gift. His pout must have been obvious, because he feels the prince’s grip on his arm.  
  
“Stop feeling sad. The fact that you thought of me is enough of a gift. Here, have one.” He holds the box in front of Chanyeol.  
  
They were an expensive Japanese sweet, ones Chanyeol would never have bought for himself, but he had wanted to meet the prince’s worldly tastes. As such Chanyeol had little idea of which to try, hesitating as he looks over the confectionaries.  
  
“Still being stubborn? Here, try this.” The boy picks up one rather plain looking piece and puts it in the Chanyeol’s mouth, grinning when he starts to smile. “Kompeito. Father says they give it to guests of the Japanese emperor. How do you like it?”  
  
Chanyeol nods, chewing slowly. It tastes like pure sugar, and it’s a bit too strong for him personally; but he doesn’t complain, knowing he’d probably never get to eat something that expensive ever again.  
  
Wang Eun watches him, unconvinced. “Personally I prefer Korean sweets, like patbingsu. Father comes home with all these foreign delicacies after his state visits but none of them are ever as nice as what we get in the Palace, I think.”  
  
With this Chanyeol can agree. Wang Eun takes one of the candies and pops it into his mouth, scrunching his face up at the sweetness. Chanyeol laughs, and Wang Eun hits him in the shoulder.  
  
“Hey, don’t joke! You should’ve seen your face when you were pretending to like it!” He closes the box, looking Chanyeol straight in the eye now. “Next time you want to get me something, don’t think you need to impress me with fancy things, okay?”  
  
It takes a moment, but Chanyeol nods._

 

 

=

 

 

When he wakes up the sun is already high in the sky, and there's a latent numbness in his right arm where Baekhyun's body weight had been. Baekhyun, however, is not there.  
  
Cringing as he stretches, realising he'd just slept in a full suit without even taking his shoes off, he lazily brushes before stepping into the living room. What he sees, he didn't expect.  
  
Yixing is leaning against the doorframe on the opposite side of the room, arms crossed in a defensive stance. Baekhyun is nowhere here either. Instead, at the table in the middle of the room sits Minister Lee, clearly awaiting Chanyeol's awakening with a smile.  
  
"Ah, you're finally awake!" he says, voice as jolly as ever, a snare ready to go off at any minute.  
  
Chanyeol bows quickly, worry plaguing his mind already. "I apologise for my tardiness and my appearance, Sir."  
  
Minister Lee waves a hand, gesturing for Chanyeol to sit in front of him. Chanyeol does so, cowering slightly to make himself smaller in front of his superior. "Chanyeol, do you have a lighter I could borrow?"  
  
The older man speaks calmly, like a cobra sizing up its prey before it attacks. Chanyeol holds out his Crown issued lighter, lighting his expensive cigar for him. The man gives him only a smile as thanks before leaning back, holding his cigar between his index and middle finger. He slides a pack of cigarettes across the table, a cheap brand Chanyeol is more accustomed to. A reminder of his status dressed up like a reward. Chanyeol has little choice but to light one, bringing it to his own mouth, feeling Yixing's disbelieving stare at all times.  
  
"There are some very important things to be discussed, regarding the search for the prince. I would have preferred to have them privately - your other friend wasn't here when I arrived anyway, but Mr Zhang here was insistent on staying, and I frankly don't have the time to squabble over minutiae at the moment," he says, with a searing look towards Yixing, who does not flinch. "I received a telephone call from the court physician last night, after the premiere. He said the King will likely not survive past halfway through next week. We are running short on time, and public sentiment is against us." He clasps his hands within his own. "We are focusing all our efforts to locate either the youngest Wang prince or evidence of his death before Prince Sehun's coronation. We have scouts scouring all of Asia, but since you are our best asset in this search we're stationing you in Busan. The riots there are escalating every day, and we think it's because there's a loyalist stronghold there, and if anywhere, that will be the place the prince will turn up. You just need to recognise him."  
  
"Yes Sir," Chanyeol nods, feeling Yixing's burning glare against his skin. If Minister Lee does as well, he doesn't show it.  
  
"Good," Minister Lee says, standing and patting down his suit. "You can join the Prince and I on the royal ferry back to Korea. You can bring your friend with you as well, if you so wish. We depart tomorrow at dawn," he walks up to the door where Yixing stands, smiling in the face of an angry stare. "Mr Zhang, if you'll allow me," he grins, and Yixing merely steps aside, letting the man open the door and leave.  
  
After making sure he's really left, Yixing slams the door closed and turns to Chanyeol. "What the fuck was that? Searching for Prince Eun? What the hell are you doing?"  
  
Chanyeol puts his hands out defensively, standing, but stuttering over his words. "I've got bills to pay Yixing, not everyone can be an entrepreneur," he says, and Yixing can barely reply, he's so shocked. "And anyways, it's not like they're going to do anything bad to him. They just want him to sign a letter of abdication, that's all."  
  
"You are fooling yourself if you think that's all they'll do to him," Yixing scoffs.  
  
"I think I know the Crown better than you do, Xing," Chanyeol sits down again. "They're not the same organisation they were when you left."  
  
Yixing walks up to where he's sitting, getting close to his face. "Clearly, since when we started they wouldn't have dared with those bullshit mind games for fear of scaring us off," he spits. He points an index finger at Chanyeol, authoritative. "Don't be one of their sheep. I don't know if you remember or not, but you were one of the few people Prince Eun ever got to call a friend. If you care about a cash sum more than that I think you need to get your priorities sorted out."  
  
Before Chanyeol has the chance to reply there's a quick knocking on the door. Yixing goes to open it, and Baekhyun's on the other side, holding what looks like some books.  
  
Turning on a smile effortlessly, Yixing lets him in. "Did you enjoy your trip to the library? I can't imagine going somewhere to read things after getting so thoroughly hammered just hours before."  
  
"I did," Baekhyun chuckles. "They were selling some old stock too, so I got these," he gestures to his books. Only then does he realise the morose look on Chanyeol's face. "What happened?"  
  
Chanyeol shakes his head, forcing himself to ease up. "Nothing. I received an invitation to travel on the Crown's ferry back to Busan tomorrow morning. You're also free to come," he says.  
  
"Really? That's great news!" Baekhyun turns to Yixing, "And I'm sure you'll be glad to have the house back to yourself again," he jokes. "I better start packing."  
  
He scurries off to the guest room, leaving Chanyeol and Yixing alone together again. "You should pack too, there's not much time before you'll have to set out." He places a card in front of Chanyeol, with a telephone number printed on it in neat cursive. "You ever change your mind about your life, you call me. I have connections that'll make it easier for you to get out. I'm serious." With this he goes back to his own room, leaving Chanyeol with just his thoughts, the ashes of his cigarette and the distant noise of Baekhyun tidying his own messes.

 

 

=

 

 

The ship is far better than the usual Shanghai-Busan ferry, but Chanyeol can't say he expected any less from the royal boat. It's spotlessly clean and rather gigantic, intimidating as a war machine despite being only a people-carrier. As soon as they reach the top of the walkway Chanyeol is nearly bowled over by a shorter man. "Jongdae, what the hell are you doing here?" Chanyeol asks, laughing.  
  
"Me? I'm at the Crown's service of course," he grins on seeing Chanyeol's unimpressed look. "What? Everyone's too focused on the coronation in the capital, nobody's worrying about petty vandals right now. So I thought I'd take a few days off and meet you. Junmyeon's here too."  
  
"Thank God, we need someone sane here," he laughs, catching a glimpse of Baekhyun's face out of the corner of his eye. He doesn't look angry, like he did with Yixing, but he definitely isn't happy either. He hadn't brought up anything about the kiss yesterday or anything either, so Chanyeol had assumed he can't remember it. "By the way, this is Baekhyun. I told you about him, remember?"  
  
Jongdae looks at him, his eyebrows raised, and Baekhyun wonders what exactly has been said about him. "So you're the famous Baekhyun," the man says, his cat-like features curving upwards as he extends a handshake, which Baekhyun takes. "I have to say, congrats on managing to get Chanyeol to stick by you. He's got commitment issues when it comes to anything but money, must be some childhood trauma or something." Chanyeol elbows him in the side as Baekhyun takes his hand.  
  
"Thanks," Baekhyun replies coolly, "I always like a project."  
  
Jongdae laughs, a high, whiny tone. "I like this guy, Chanyeol, I'm sure we're gonna get along."  
  
Chanyeol rolls his eyes as they walk into the ship cabins, and Jongdae leads them to their room on the employee deck. It's a decently furnished abode, mostly wood, with two single beds on each side of the room.  
  
"There's going to be a banquet tonight in honour of the King and the Prince - but until then you two can relax and freshen up." Jongdae begins walking towards the door. "Junmyeon wants me to look at some papers with him - trust him to make me work on a day off, huh? But I guess it just means we'll see you tonight." He tells them which cabin to find him in if necessary before leaving, and just as he does they both feel the minute sensation of the boat undocking from the pier and beginning to move over the sea.  
  
After a while of nothing Chanyeol can't hold it anymore, curiosity finally wearing him dry. "Yesterday... you said I talk in my sleep - what exactly have I been saying?"  
  
"Oh, I said that to you? How embarrassing."  
  
"Yeah, but you didn't elaborate." Chanyeol decides to leave out the part about the kiss.  
  
"You said some names - I don't know anyone with those names, but they seemed so familiar," Baekhyun says. "Wang So, Wang Sil, and Wang Eun."  
  
"Watch your words," Chanyeol whispers, suddenly alarmed, not expecting this turn of the conversation. "Saying those names in this environment can be dangerous."  
  
Baekhyun snorts. "I don't believe in ghosts."  
  
"It's not about ghosts. More like assassins and bounty hunters in this case," Chanyeol says seriously. "You're lucky you're with me, a lot of Crown agents don't take too kindly to those names either."  
  
"But who are they? Can you tell me?"  
  
Chanyeol stands, checking no one is standing at the door or listening through the walls. Once he's confirmed there's no one there, he begins. "They were the children of King Taejo, the half-brother of our current ruler, King Gungye. You probably know them because of that, they older two were adored by the people."  
  
"Why not the third one?"  
  
"Prince Eun? He was rarely allowed to leave his room," he explains. "He had some very severe sickness, so very few people ever got to see him in person."  
  
Before Baekhyun can ask what happened to them Chanyeol is called out of the room by a colleague.  
  
"I'll be back soon," says Chanyeol before the door slams shut. He's been asked to deliver a particular wine to the Prince's cabin, one aged several centuries according to the label, and likely worth more than Chanyeol had saved up in his whole life. As he walks down the corridor to where the Prince stays, an argument starts being distinguishable above the noise of the water and the ship's motors whirring. One of the voices is definitely Minister Lee's; a tone greatly feared by employees of the Crown, as he so rarely loses his composure that it's an explosive affair when he does. The other voice, though, seems familiar and alien simultaneously. It's the Prince, Chanyeol deduces, though he has never heard him raise his voice like this.  
  
" _I_ am the heir to this throne and _I_ decide what will happen. Do you understand?"  
  
"As long as your father is alive you will do exactly what he says, understand?"  
  
"My father will be dead in a week," Sehun spits, and the harshness coming from the usually docile Prince makes Chanyeol flinch.  
  
"How dare you say something like that," Minister Lee seethes. "You're an ungrateful child, and not fit to be ruler."  
  
"Your opinion about me will not change mine," says the Prince. "If Wang Eun shows up and wishes to take over, I'll give him back the kingdom, and that's that."  
  
Chanyeol's mouth drops open in shock, and he can barely consider the meaning of this before Minister Lee interjects. "Your father and I have worked too hard to get you where you are, Your Highness, and I will not let you throw all of that away. It is your father's dying wish that you succeed him, and I will not allow you to disobey even that."  
  
The Prince tries to speak, but is shut down quickly with what Chanyeol presumes is an authoritative hand.  
  
"Assuming Wang Eun is not dead already, he will be once we find him."  
  
The air in Chanyeol's throat dries up. Leaving the wine at the door and knocking twice, he turns on his heels, walking as quickly as possible away from them.  
  
He had given up hope of Prince Eun's survival a long time ago, but when he had been notified of this search there had been a slight flicker of hope. Now he knows it had been a head-hunt all along, any faith he has disappears, replaced with only guilt. Yixing's words from just a few hours ago echo in his mind, taunting him for ever expecting anything else.  
  
"Wang Eun is dead," he says to himself, trying to absolve himself from his own remorse. "He cannot be found."  
  
If he's honest he had barely thought about the search since he met Baekhyun, and though initially he had been just a distraction he's glad for it now. Getting him to Busan is his mission, but once he's home Chanyeol doesn't know what he'll do.

 

 

=

 

 

As soon as Chanyeol's out, Baekhyun retrieves the books he had gotten from the library in Shanghai. One he had to pay for, but the other was one they wanted off their hands. Both were histories on the royal family in Korea, and that vague throwaway comment Miss Son had made still stuck in his mind, despite his inebriated state when he heard it. He had been reading parts of the books when he had the time outside of Chanyeol's vision, but those had been few and far between and he had little idea what to search for. Now though, he does. Turning the pages quickly, he finds the chapter he is looking for almost immediately in the book he bought.  
  
_King Taejo had 3 children in the years of 1895, 1896 and 1899 respectively with his first and only consort, Lady Seulkyung. After the death of Lady Seulkyung in childbirth, numerous attempts were made by rebels to overthrow House Wang. King Taejo decided for the future security of his children not to disclose their birth names, instead having all members of the household and public refer to them only by their given regnal names. Breaking tradition, the King decided to use the house name in their regnal names, while assigning them new given names that only he and the children themselves knew. The children were given the regnal names as follows: the eldest son, Prince So, the only daughter, Princess Sil, and the youngest son, Prince Eun.  
  
During the March rebellion of 1909, King Taejo and his children were killed during the Palace raid. With no other heirs available, the current monarch, His Majesty the King Gungye, assumed the throne, as the half-brother of the late King Taejo. His son, Prince Sehun, born in 1904 to his third consort Lady Sooyeon, will be the next heir._  
  
Baekhyun closes the book, somehow unsatisfied with what he just read. It's all there as printed fact, however for such a tumultuous time it seems the book chose to skim over that recent period in history too quickly and, for some reason, he doesn't believe a lot of it either. Opening the other book, he has much lower expectations but, skimming through the index, he finds something out of the ordinary.  
  
The page on the children of Taejo is word-for-word identical in many parts, and more elaborate in many areas. There are even some significant details present which were missing from the other print.  
  
_The line of succession remained clear in terms of Prince So succeeding Taejo, however it was Princess Sil studying to be the substitute heir and not Prince Eun, due to his chronically poor health._  
  
Baekhyun quickly checks the publication dates of both books - the sold version was first published in 1912, while the original in 1911. Baekhyun wonders how much had changed in that single year for such crucial information to be omitted. The final chapter, in particular, captures his interest.  
  
_During the March rebellion of 1909, King Taejo and his children, Prince So and Princess Sil were killed during the Palace raid, their bodies found in the search along with those of multiple members of the personal staff. The body of the third child, Prince Eun, was never found, nor was that of his nanny, leading many to speculate his survival. However due to his condition and the age of his guardian, the Crown presumed them both dead, allowing the current monarch, His Majesty the King Gungye, to take the throne; as the half-brother of the late King Taejo. His son, Prince Sehun, born in 1904 to his third consort Lady Sooyeon, will be the next heir._  
  
It's clear to understand why the Crown wouldn't want that version of events to be spread, Baekhyun knows, even if it's the truth. While it does seem more correct, Baekhyun can't help feeling like he's missing something. Just as he goes to close the book, the light of the bedside lamp shines through the page he's on, and the faint outline of a symbol catches his attention. It seems the pages have been glued together almost, to conceal the truth, but eventually Baekhyun is able to separate the leaves of paper.  
  
He freezes, staring at the page in shock. A distinct pattern he of course recognizes, one that he carries on his sleeve wherever he goes. Looking at his bracelet, he feels dizzy, disoriented.  
  
_The insignia of the royal family under the rule of King Taejo, prior to succession by His Majesty the King Gungye. As per tradition, worn only by royals._  
  
He feels sick, and his temples are pounding. Pushing the books under his pillow he takes deep breaths, trying to collect his thoughts. The symbol on his bracelet, that had meant nothing up until this point, shows that he is a royal now. He racks his brain more, his vision blurring to the point where he lies back, squeezing his eyes shut.  
  
Things come back in flashes, going backwards. Escaping through underground tunnels, the woman he had called grandmother all these years sheltering him in her arms as the Palace falls under siege. The faces of his brother and sister the last time he saw them, cowering in fear as it seemed to rain fire outside the windows. The terrified eyes of his father as he sent his children off, ready to accept his own fate.  
  
He wants it to stop, but it won't. Memories keep crashing into his mind, from even earlier now. Playing games with his siblings in his room - their names, the real ones, Baekbeom and Baekah. Receiving presents from his father on Chuseok. The same four faces - his father, siblings and his so-called grandma - over and over again, and only them. The environment never changes, the beige of the walls remains the same, his window never opens, and he never leaves. His life was a confined one, with little to do.  
  
But amidst it all, there's occasionally another boy there, around his age, with books and pens like a student. He's a servant, his clothes shabbier than what he himself wears but better than what he would have had on the streets. His eyes crinkle too much when he smiles, and his glasses are thick rimmed and clumsy. He tries his hardest to recall a name, but comes up blank.  
  
There's two knocks on the door, and Baekhyun stares at Chanyeol wide-eyed as he walks in, though he seems too preoccupied to notice.  
  
When Chanyeol eventually looks back at him, he shakes himself slightly. "Baekhyun? Are you okay?"  
  
Blinking, Baekhyun nods; only just realising the tears streaming steadily from his eyes, wiping at them with the edge of his sleeve. "Just- allergies," he makes up.  
  
"Do you need your nebulizer?" Chanyeol asks, concerned.  
  
Baekhyun shakes his head. He doesn't know how to feel - he knows now that his family is truly gone, but he had dealt with being an orphan for years, and never knew he had siblings to mourn in the first place. He doesn't know how to cry for a family he can't even remember.  
  
"Okay," Chanyeol is clearly unconvinced but decides against pushing the issue further. "If there's anything on your mind just tell me, alright."  
  
As he hears this Baekhyun almost blurts out everything, almost tells Chanyeol exactly who he is, asks if he knows him. But he bites his tongue at the last moment. Chanyeol works for the Crown now; no matter who he himself was all those years ago, today Chanyeol is still obligated to report every little thing to his superiors. He doesn't want to put him in that position, because he knows what he'll choose. Chanyeol doesn't seem to recognize him anyway, so he probably doesn't care so much, Baekhyun reasons. "I'm fine," he says instead. "Is it almost time for the banquet?"  
  
"Yeah," Chanyeol says, passing him a neatly wrapped parcel. "Since I'll just be using my uniform I phoned in my tailoring deal and got you a suit. I had to guess your proportions, but I think it should fit alright."  
  
Opening the package, Baekhyun pulls the suit out, with a dress shirt accompanying it. It's an impeccably stitched wine-red affair, silky to the touch. It's very different to what Chanyeol had gotten for himself last time, so Baekhyun can't help but look at him, a little curious.  
  
"I don't know, I thought it would look good on you."  
  
Colour fills Baekhyun's cheeks. Of course Chanyeol's attractiveness hadn't gone unnoticed by him, however he hadn't let himself show that since it could be exploited. He doesn't know whether Chanyeol has found out his secret somehow and is playing him or whether he genuinely means it; but he gives him the benefit of the doubt, considering when they reach the shore Baekhyun will be where he set out for in the first place. This makes Baekhyun stop in his tracks. It's only been a few days with Chanyeol and he'll have to say goodbye to him so soon, and for some reason the realisation of this hurts. He had liked him in the brief period they had together, and he would have wanted to spend some more time with him, if circumstances had allowed it.  
  
He's not allowed to think in peace for very long though, as the ship begins rocking violently, one of the alarm bells starting to ring. "What's happening?" Baekhyun asks, alarmed.  
  
"I don't know," Chanyeol says, also confused and peering through the porthole in the wall. "But grab your stuff. I have a feeling we won't be staying here much longer."  
  
With their bags in tow the two of them make their way up to the deck of the ship, where sailors and other crew are running to and fro in panic. Chanyeol peers over the edge, and sees a small gunship with its sights set directly on the Crown ferry.  
  
"So that's why the sailors were on strike," Chanyeol says, pulling out his loaded pistol just in case. "Pirates," he explains to a confused Baekhyun. "Anti-Crown rebels. Loyalists of the old King."  
  
Baekhyun looks out across the mayhem in shock. The gunboat whizzes around the ferry quickly, landing precise strikes with an intent to kill. These people are supposedly loyal to his own father, but despite not remembering much about him Baekhyun knows in his gut that this isn't the action he would want.  
  
"Chanyeol, get over here!" Jongdae yells from starboard, an unfamiliar man standing next to him, looking stressed. Shooting Baekhyun a look telling him to follow Chanyeol skips up the painted iron steps to where they are.  
  
"Good, you're here," the unfamiliar man says, raising his voice to be heard over the gunshots sounding from both sides. "We're making changes to the route. Full-speed now to Jeju Island. There's too much Crown defence for them to follow us there."  
  
"What about the ones on our asses right now?" Chanyeol asks, and just as he does the firing dies down, as the rebel boats have stopped moving altogether, the Crown soldiers putting their guns back in their holsters.  
  
"I think that's taken care of," the other man says, before meeting eyes with Baekhyun. "You must be Baekhyun. I'm Junmyeon," he offers a handshake which Baekhyun takes. He's also wearing a uniform, though his is a little more elaborately decorated than the others, with a number of medals hanging over his chest. One of the shipmates arrives from the lower decks, and after a quiet conversation with Junmyeon, he scampers off to the control room, and the boat begins whirring into action again. "We'll be at Jeju in less than an hour, and the banquet will be postponed until tomorrow night, either here or back in Seoul. We'll decide when to depart for Busan after assessing the situation." He turns to talk to Baekhyun specifically. "I understand you'd like to see your family as soon as possible but I hope you can be understanding."  
  
Baekhyun nods, wind flipping through his hair now. His grandmother had said he had to go to Busan once she was gone, but if the books were to be believed, would anything even be waiting for him there? He wants so badly to believe that someone else had escaped, but his hopes dim with every passing minute.

 

 

=

 

 

Once they dock in Jeju, the heightened military defences there are apparent straight away. Warships fill up the docks, and as they disembark the ferry, Baekhyun and the others are greeted by soldiers of the Crown, their uniforms pristine and boots polished. They're mostly talking directly to Junmyeon, even the older soldiers seeming to take his orders.  
  
"He's quite a senior service member for the Crown," Chanyeol explains to Baekhyun quietly. "He was even recommended for the role of Minister by the Prince himself, but it seems according to King Gungye that he's too young."  
  
Despite his age, Junmyeon speaks with a sense of command that has Baekhyun immediately believing in his abilities. After a moment the horns begin to play, and Prince Sehun and Minister Lee descend from the ship, accompanied down the boardwalk by security personnel with rifles in hand.  
  
"Your Highness," Junmyeon bows, and the others follow suit. "Minister Lee," he smiles at the older man.  
  
"Junmyeon, good to see you again," he laughs, slapping him on the back maybe a bit too hard to be considered jovial. Junmyeon keeps smiling nevertheless. "I'm sure you know what the plan is, correct?" Nodding, Junmyeon leads them off towards the convoy that had been arranged for them.  
  
"It's sad to watch, huh," Jongdae sighs dramatically. "He's been working all his life for a promotion he'll never get. I wish I could tell him it's a pipe dream, but I just can't bring myself to do it."  
  
Chanyeol rolls his eyes. "You're the hero we don't deserve, Jongdae."  
  
"I know," he laments back, looking forlorn before shifting into a cat-like grin. "It's been so long since we've been to Jeju, we should go to Seonsa's Tavern again! It's an absolute must-see for Baekhyun as well."  
  
Taking a glance at Baekhyun's still sombre expression, Chanyeol clears his throat. "We just attended Miss Son's party yesterday, do you think we're going to put our livers in that condition?"  
  
Jongdae looks at Baekhyun, who doesn't dispute Chanyeol's words, and knows that he's lost. "You two are just like Junmyeon," Jongdae whines. "Well, not everyone gets invited to swanky parties like you two, so I'm going out tonight to celebrate with my own bourgeois. Later," he says, before jumping into a taxi. Baekhyun gives Chanyeol a questioning look.  
  
"Seonsa's Tavern has some... particular cabaret acts that Jongdae's a fan of," Chanyeol sighs. "They are quite entertaining, admittedly, but you don't seem to be in the mood for that."  
  
"I'm not. Would you mind taking me around instead?"  
  
Chanyeol's smile isn't far shy of brilliant. "Of course."

 

 

=

 

 

The sand of the beach looks silver under starlight, the waves a soft symphony of sound. "The Fort where we'll be staying tonight is just up there," Chanyeol says. "You wanna grab some dinner before we go?"  
  
Baekhyun looks out across the boundless ocean. "Is there anything we can eat out here?"  
  
After thinking for a moment Chanyeol snaps his fingers, taking Baekhyun by the hand some way down the beach. There's an old woman at a stall selling some local speciality dishes, mostly seafood, and they purchase enough to fill their stomachs.  
  
"Thank you, Chanyeol," the woman says, her voice old and withered. "We don't get much business here nowadays, and you certainly don't visit often enough to make up for it."  
  
"Sorry Chef Song," Chanyeol grins, "but today I brought you two customers instead of one!"  
  
"Indeed," she greets Baekhyun, and a few of her teeth are missing. Baekhyun smiles back awkwardly. "How are things at the Palace?"  
  
"They're fine, I guess. His Highness isn't feeling well. Honestly, I think if you were still cooking for us all he'd be in much better health."  
  
"Don't be silly," she says, but chuckles regardless. "It's been over 15 years now. If they wanted me back they'd have called for me by now." She hands them their stewpots, steam rising off them slightly. Baekhyun takes a sip, and the taste is distinct but oh so familiar, it has Baekhyun looking up to stare at her directly.  
  
"Good, right?" Chanyeol asks, oblivious to the inner runnings of Baekhyun's mind. "She was the previous chef for the royal household. Nobody can beat her, in my opinion."  
  
Baekhyun just nods, not knowing what to say to the woman who had fed him in his childhood. Chanyeol hands over the measly amount of money she charged for the meal plus a few thousand Won extra. "Come again soon," she says, waving as they walked away.  
  
Sitting on the beach, they eat their meals mostly in silence. After a minute of nothing else, Baekhyun turns to Chanyeol. "For a man so desperate for money, I was surprised to see you tip."  
  
Chanyeol smirks, laying back on the sand with his hands behind his head, staring up at the stars. "She's in a much worse place than I am," he says, as Baekhyun mimics his position. "Not to mention she's one of the people who practically raised me."  
  
For some reason, this strikes a chord in Baekhyun, and he thinks long and hard as to why. "She said she hasn't worked in 15 years, but you said you started working for the Crown at 16." Chanyeol freezes, even as Baekhyun shifts to look at him. "Last time I checked, Chanyeol, you aren't in your 30s."  
  
He had never been a good liar, and the only reason people believed him about his past was because he'd rehearsed that story so many times it came out naturally. Now, without any excuses to give, Chanyeol closes his eyes, admitting defeat. "I may not have been completely honest with you, but I had my reasons."  
  
"Do you still have those reasons?"  
  
The moon lingers between the clouds, lighting up Baekhyun's face just as Chanyeol opens his eyes to see him, directly above him. Chanyeol shakes his head, no. Baekhyun hasn't done anything to betray his trust, like others in the past, and it's not like he posed him any threat either.  
  
"Then tell me."  
  
He hesitates, swallowing, telling himself he has no reason to be afraid. "First off, I really am an orphan," he begins. "Obviously I can't remember much of the first few years, but there were a few homeless women taking care of abandoned kids. I couldn't have been more than 3 or 4 when the King visited the area. He saw the condition we were in, and put the women in employment in the Palace. The street kids were to be taken in to be educated just as the Princes and Princess, and work for the Palace in the meantime. That's when I met Yixing, and Junmyeon and Jongdae - they had all been in the same situation as me, but were taken in at different times. All in all I was the youngest there, and didn't even know how to read and write."  
  
Baekhyun rubs reassuring circles into his arm, but says nothing.  
  
"But the royals changed that. They gave me and everyone else the best opportunities we could ask for. And we were learning to serve the household too - how to negotiate, how to fight, all that. But when the rebellion happened…” he takes a breath. “We were too young. Most of us were barely in our teens, of course we couldn't really defend ourselves. That's why only a few of us made it out," he feels regretful even still, as the faces of the lost boys flash before his eyes. "The few of us that got out managed to stay hidden for a few days; but then, some workers for the King's half-brother found us."  
  
His throat starts to clam up, the same way it had when he had seen those uniforms for the first time on the officers that had found them, a uniform he himself would grow up to wear one day.  
  
"We were quite well-trained already, and they told us if we joined them things could go back to how they were. A few didn't think things could ever be the same, so they left, like Yixing. Others thought the same, but chose money over morals. Just watched as the hand that fed us went up in flames," he laughs, but it's tinged with shame. He dabs at the wetness now on his cheeks. "Cowards, all of us."  
  
Waiting for a reply, he looks to Baekhyun. He hadn't been expecting the tears spilling from the other man's eyes too.  
  
"Hey, hey, why are you crying," Chanyeol frets, not used to empathy like this especially after revealing his betrayal, going to comfort him but being pulled into a hug himself.  
  
"You're no coward," he says. Chanyeol stills. No one had said that to him before, and with good reason. The young men of the Crown were selfish, they were traitors to the beloved royal family, and it was something every person in Korea knew and believed in their hearts. Maybe that's why Baekhyun could say it so easily - the Royal family had never been part of his life. Nevertheless, it does make Chanyeol feel better, holding onto Baekhyun so hard it's a wonder he doesn't complain.  
  
Under the light of the moon and through Chanyeol's blurry vision, Baekhyun might have looked like an angel. If Chanyeol was drunk he probably would have believed it too. But he isn't drunk, which made his next action make even less sense.  
  
Breaking apart from Baekhyun, he pulls him back into him again with a kiss. Baekhyun blinks once, twice, before his eyes flutter closed, and they're moving in sync while the waves crash behind them. Chanyeol pushes his painful memories out of his conscious, focusing only on the heat of the moment. He'd normally feel bad using someone as a painkiller like this, but he forgets even guilt, giving himself over fully to his primal desires. If Baekhyun knows what his purpose to Chanyeol is right now he doesn't show it, as he rolls Chanyeol onto his back and cups his face in his hands, straddling him now as he leans his face down to kiss him again.  
  
When Baekhyun begins tugging at Chanyeol's shirt, the taller pulls away at last. "Not here, Baekhyun, we're in public."  
  
Baekhyun's eyes widen, seemingly just now remembering where they are and face turning a deep red, before giving Chanyeol a determined look. "Then I think it's about time we go up to the fort."  
  
After a long and winding cable car ride where they can barely keep their hands off each other, they finally arrive at the fort, where Chanyeol presents his Crown ID before they're let in.  
  
"Ah, Chanyeol, Baekhyun, you two are finally here," Junmyeon says, catching them at the lobby with two sets of keys in hand. "Thankfully they've sent a few deployments out, and we've got a room each for the two of you-"  
  
"Thanks," Chanyeol says quickly, taking one set in the hand not holding Baekhyun's before rushing towards the stairs.  
  
"Of course," Junmyeon says to himself, not knowing why he thought the situation was anything else.  
  
"You're definitely not a coward, seeing as how you tried to kiss me on the train without even knowing how I felt first," Baekhyun says, huffing slightly as they make their way up the stairs, Chanyeol shortening his strides in pace with Baekhyun's.  
  
"I think _you_ are the real brave one here, since you practically tried to jump me after Miss Son's party," Chanyeol fires back.  
  
"I did _what_?" Baekhyun almost yells, covering his mouth with his hand as a few people around them turn to look.  
  
"Mhmm," says Chanyeol, a lopsided grin on his face, "You said I was handsome and you felt like doing that the first time you saw me."  
  
"Oh God, that's so embarrassing," Baekhyun says, covering his face with his hands as they finally reach the room.  
  
"It's alright," Chanyeol turns the key in the lock, and it opens with a satisfying click. "I felt the same anyways."  
  
As soon as the door closes they're back on each other again, Baekhyun with his arms around Chanyeol's neck and legs wrapped around Chanyeol's waist. Their bags thrown to the side, Chanyeol sucks a mark into Baekhyun' neck, positioning him on the bed before moving his hands under his shirt, making Baekhyun shiver with every brush of his fingers against his ribcage.  
  
Growing impatient just as Baekhyun mouths at his ear, Chanyeol begins to pick open the buttons on Baekhyun's cotton shirt. The skin on his chest is paler than his face, having been covered up under the sun, and his skin there is smooth in ways his weathered face may have once been. Chanyeol is just about to lean in when he notices the small brown dot on his ribcage.  
  
Peering back up at Baekhyun's face, he sees the mole just above his top lip, and just on the thumbnail of the hand grasping the sheets is another. He remembers the bad health Baekhyun's been plagued with, and his story about the accident where he'd lost his parents and his memory. Pretending nothing's happened, Chanyeol leans into Baekhyun's side, and the mole meant to be in his ear isn't there, as he had checked before, but seeing it up close there is some kind of discoloration, as if a freckle had been hidden by a tan.  
  
And just as he began to doubt himself, thought this all must be coincidence, Baekhyun turns his wrist. The moonlight hits the bracelet on his wrist at such an angle that the crest of the royal family could finally be seen, with a name inscribed into it that Chanyeol knows must have been given by the King, a safeguard to protect his children if the worst ever happened.  
  
"Chanyeol?" Baekhyun says, catching his eyes worriedly. "Is everything okay?"  
  
Chanyeol just stares at him for a moment, dumbfounded. "Uh- it's nothing. Nothing." He sits up, feeling a little sick. "I don't feel too well - I think Chef Song's food didn't agree with me too well."  
  
Baekhyun also sits up, concerned, his lips curling in such a particular way. It's a splitting image of the young boy who'd sit in bed all day, too sick to leave, a boy the rest of the world was never meant to see. "We can stop. It's fine," he says, suddenly sounding just as he did when he taught Chanyeol sums and science and languages all those years ago.  
  
"I'm gonna go out and smoke," Chanyeol says, standing and leaving abruptly, barely bothering to fix himself up and trying to ignore Baekhyun's questioning eyes on his back.  
  
Junmyeon is still in the lobby when he gets there, as he'd hoped he'd be, along with Jongdae.  
  
"You were acting all elitist when you bailed on Seonsa’s Tavern earlier but you aren't any better," Jongdae says, his arms crossed as he looks Chanyeol up and down.  
  
"I need to talk to you two," Chanyeol says, not even responding to the joke. "Alone."  
  
Once they're outside, the sheer face of the cliff edge before them and no guards around, Chanyeol can finally speak. "I-" He takes a breath. "I found Prince Eun."  
  
Both of their eyes widen, Jongdae's with happiness and Junmyeon's with something else, though he seems to try and stay neutral.  
  
"You better not be joking right now," Jongdae says, and Chanyeol shakes his head. "I can't believe it, I thought he was dead!" He's shouting, but gets masked by the sound of the waves. "The reward's all yours, Chanyeol, you'll never have to work another day in your life!"  
  
Junmyeon puts a hand on Jongdae's shoulder, growing increasingly more solemn. "I assume you've heard what the Crown's real plans for Prince Eun are," he says to Chanyeol.  
  
The taller man nods, and now Jongdae is frowning too. "Don't tell me they want to-"  
  
Instead of saying anything, instead of letting those words materialise, Junmyeon just nods, and Jongdae's expression twists into one of dismay. "I had just assumed he was already dead," Junmyeon confesses, "I never thought we'd actually be put in this position."  
  
Chanyeol says nothing. Truth be told everything had pointed to that being true - how could a boy too sick to even leave his room survive all that? Chanyeol had already mourned the death of his friend years ago, made peace with it and moved on. Being forced back into those memories is like having hot cinder pierce the skin tissue over a scar that had already healed half a lifetime ago.  
  
"Chanyeol," Junmyeon says, barely a whisper, but just enough to pull Chanyeol back into reality. "We promise we won't tell, right Jongdae?" The other man nods. "Chanyeol... Who is it?"  
  
He closes his eyes, showing them the key he had taken from Junmyeon, wishing tears to come out, but none do. He had cried for Prince Eun years ago, and earlier today he had again. He's running out.  
  
"Oh, Chanyeol," Junmyeon says, his sympathy crystal clear in his voice. Jongdae looks between the two of them, making sense of the situation. "Does he know?"  
  
The taller man shakes his head, "I don't think so." For a while they just stare at the floor, trying to collect their thoughts, the waves roaring and the seagulls screeching in the background.  
  
"You're really are such a hopeless romantic, Chanyeol," Jongdae tries to laugh, tries to lighten the mood in vain. "You fell for the prince back then, and now you've fallen for him again."

 

 

=

 

 

They decided to keep quiet about it, and discuss it more later. Chanyeol returns to the room, where Baekhyun is already fast asleep. He pouts just like he used to, when they were both children. King Taejo had a particular liking for Chanyeol, his well-mannered demeanour and willingness to learn earning him high praise in the household. Eventually King Taejo bestowed a great honour upon him, letting him into Prince Eun's usually sealed-off chamber, something only the royal family and the boy's personal nanny had access to. Apparently he had started to feel lonely as his siblings had grown up and made their own friends, leaving him in the confinement of his room. The King's favourite servant boy was the natural choice: a same age friend for a lonely prince.  
  
And yes, by the time the rebellion was on the horizon it had been 7 years and Chanyeol had undoubtedly grown fond of the prince, but got interrupted before he could even begin to understand his feelings. Now he's back, Chanyeol can't just pick things up where they left off - Baekhyun had grown up away from him, and they were both certainly different people to who they were as children.  
  
He crawls into the double bed, close to Baekhyun despite their being more than enough space for them to sleep separated. Baekhyun turns, arms wrapping around Chanyeol, forbidding him to go. Chanyeol does the same, but he knows he'll have to release him soon.  
  
Tonight, his sleep is dreamless.  
  
The next morning Chanyeol wakes with the familiar weight of Baekhyun's head on his arm. He'll miss it - he'll miss all this, just as he had missed him before. Baekhyun's eyes flit open, and he grins into Chanyeol's shoulder when he catches him staring. He gives him a quick kiss again before standing up and going straight to the bathroom. Chanyeol hears him singing, notes light and dulcet. He's not sure what Baekhyun wants out of his own life, but the man surely does love to sing.  
  
They have a quiet breakfast. Baekhyun doesn't ask any questions as to why Chanyeol left last night, and he's glad, because he wouldn't have any answers to give him.  
  
The ferry to Busan leaves just shy of noon. Chanyeol disappears off somewhere with Jongdae and Junmyeon, and Baekhyun does feel a pang of sadness knowing that he won't even be able to spend these last few hours with Chanyeol. He knows something bigger will be waiting for him in Busan, that's why his grandmother had told him to go with her dying breath. Whatever it is, he feels like it would occupy a space in his life that would simply leave no room for anyone else.  
  
He chooses to roam the decks of the ship aimlessly instead, trying to stave off his anxiousness. After a while like this, he happens upon a large room, the door open, where the Prince and Minister Lee stand around a phone receiver attached to some sort of amplifier device. Baekhyun doesn't want to intrude, but the tensed stance the Prince is exuding leaves Baekhyun interested enough to stay standing at the door.  
  
"My son, listen to me," the voice coming through the receiver is weak, barely audible over the clanking of the machinery in the background. "They are telling me I will not live beyond the hour. And so I want you to be the one to hear my final wish. You will follow it, right?"  
  
The boy looks slightly surprised, maybe, but definitely not as distraught as Baekhyun felt he would have been had he been given notice of his father's death. He hesitates a bit before answering, but on receiving a hardened glare from Minister Lee, he closes his eyes, exhaling. "Yes father."  
  
"That's a good boy." His smile is almost audible through the phone. "You will be the next leader of the country, my son. You have studied so hard, and I believe in you. You will continue my legacy." Prince Sehun looks frustrated almost, but says nothing. "Remember, if there's anything you're unsure of, where you can't tell what the best choice is, ask Minister Lee. I have appointed him for a reason, after all. He will always think of what's right for our family. Do not doubt him."  
  
"Yes, father," he says again, through gritted teeth.  
  
"I am so glad, my son." Sehun stands up, walking out of the room and brushing past Baekhyun without thought. "Leave me be now, let me rest," the man says, his final words left unheard.  
  
Baekhyun escapes soon after, knowing it probably wouldn't look good if he was caught eavesdropping. He hadn't given much thought to his royal responsibilities, but now they're staring him in the face. According to the books he was never meant to be king. His grandmother had taught him well in Art and Languages, but he knew nothing of strategies and war, how to talk to nobility, how to run a country. It was never a role meant for him, and never one he wanted - all he wished for in life was a stable place he could call home, and no Palace could ever be that for him.  
  
The foghorn signals their arrival at Busan, and Baekhyun sees the place he was promised could be his home. Somehow it feels empty, though, and the promise of a loving family waiting for him on the pier seems almost more like a fairy-tale than reality. It makes him restless, and he's about to go inside just to avoid the view when Chanyeol appears by his side.  
  
"King Gungye is dead. Prince Sehun will be coronated in Seoul the day after tomorrow," Chanyeol tells him, looking straight ahead.  
  
Baekhyun takes his hand, and Chanyeol lets him. They both can take a little comfort in this - for the very beginning, at least, they could face the new world together.

 

 

=

 

 

There are many people on the streets already, all having heard the news of the king's death mere hours after it happened. The Crown guards almost have trouble pushing back the crowds as they disembark. Busan has been a rebel stronghold ever since the rebellion, and the timing of their arrival couldn't be any worse.  
  
"You'll die just like your father, you scum," one lady screams as the Prince passes her. His face remains stoic, but his fists are clenched beneath his coat.  
  
In the midst of the crowd anyone wearing the clothes of the Crown is an enemy. If they hadn't been holding onto each other so tightly, Baekhyun probably would have lost Chanyeol. Eventually the guards shoo away most of the protesters, only a few peaceful passerbys left on the shore. One of them, a short but beautiful girl in an expensive-looking winter coat notices them, approaching them with hurried steps.  
  
"Are you Byun Baekhyun?" She asks. He nods, showing her his bracelet, careful not to let Chanyeol see the insignia. "I can't believe it - after so many years!" Her excitement is palpable, but then she notices Chanyeol standing tall next to him in his Crown attire and her face falls, lips forming a thin line.  
  
"Well, you've done your job, sir. You've brought him here safely, and the Prince's coronation is soon and I’m sure you’ll be busy, so you can go on your way. I'm a relative, and I'm here to take him home."  
  
It's a bold-faced lie, and Chanyeol knows it. The royals had no extended family left behind, and he certainly didn't remember this girl at all from his own days in the Palace.  
  
"I have time," he forces a smile. "I'd like to escort you two home, if you don't mind."  
  
There's a flash of annoyance on her face before she beams at him again. "You're so kind," she says, taking Baekhyun's hand, causing his other to fall out of Chanyeol's. "As you wish. I will warn you that it's quite a way away."  
  
Chanyeol does not look discouraged in the slightest, and they begin moving. He had been to Busan many times before, careful to wear his casual clothes throughout the duration of his stay, and for good reason - every civilian is looking at him with distrust, even hatred. Baekhyun notices too, looking up at his companion worriedly, but Chanyeol gives him a look as if everything's fine.  
  
They arrive at an alleyway, quite dark and grimy, with a single wooden door collecting mould in the side of it. "Just wait a moment here, will you," the lady says, careful to avoid stepping in the muck of the streets in her pretty high heels until she goes inside, closing the door behind her.  
  
After a short period of silence and exchanged glances, she opens the door again, smiling.  
  
Chanyeol sees the glint of the knife just soon enough to hold his arm up, but the blade pierces into tender skin and he falls to the ground. Baekhyun stares at the pool of blood pouring out of Chanyeol's arm, his body limp on the floor, his own hands shaking. When he looks up the girl now has a gun pointed at him directly.  
  
He tries to scream, but then something is covering his mouth. He can't breathe, and he claws at the arm of the assailant who's holding him, but it's no use. After a few seconds, his vision turns black.

 

 

=

 

 

It's cold - freezing almost, and mostly dark, save for a small square of sunlight on the stone floor. There's a searing pain in his arm, and when he looks down at it it's been messily bandaged, just enough to keep him alive, but so different to how he'd been treated by Baekhyun.  
  
This has him sitting up, despite the pain. "Where is he, you bastards," he yells, his own titanium handcuffs used to bind him.  
  
"He is in safer hands now than he ever was with you, Park Chanyeol," the girl from earlier says, her jet-black hair stick-straight and her gaze mocking. "I did some research into you - King Taejo's favourite servant, and this is how you repay him?" She narrows her eyes. "If you'd have died that day the world would have been better for it."  
  
"I've heard everything you just said a million times, you're not going to break me anytime soon," Chanyeol spits. "Wherever Baekhyun is, take me to him now."  
  
"Now see, that's just what we can't have happen. Let a Crown soldier, a traitor, near Prince Eun after we spent years searching for him? It simply wouldn't do."  
  
"Let me see him."  
  
"Do you have no shame?" She's getting increasingly agitated, throwing her hands up. "May I remind you that you left him in the Palace to _die_. Had it not been for his brave nanny he would not be alive today. And you have the audacity to ask for to see him, as if you really care about him?" She steps closer to the bars, tilting her head. "What- when did you find out he was Prince Eun? You're supposed to bring his head on a silver platter for Minister Lee, that's why you're so adamant about this, right? Tell me."  
  
"No."  
  
"There's no need to pretend you love him," she sneers through a sharp smile. "People don't leave the ones they love to die." Someone says a name from off in the distance, though to Chanyeol's fatigued ears it's little more than white noise. She nods in the direction the voice came from, before staring back at Chanyeol one last time. "In a few hours the world will know his name and you will be dead in hell where you belong." She turns on her heels, brisk footsteps on concrete, with a loud "long live the king!"  
  
Minutes pass, then hours. Chanyeol watches the square of sunlight on the floor get smaller and smaller as the sun sets over the horizon outside. He's tired, so tired, but he doesn't want to let himself fall asleep. He knows that when he wakes up Baekhyun won't be there next to him, and that would break his heart every single morning. At least he doesn't have many left, he reckons, if the girl was to be believed. Eventually, though, he does fall asleep.  
  
When he awakes again, he feels hollow, sitting in his cell all alone. He wishes he could control his dreams, could will Baekhyun in front of him again, but all that had greets him is an empty, silent void.  
  
The girl from yesterday appears not to long after, sliding a plate towards him through the gaps. All that's on it is a piece of bread and a metal cup of water; the bare minimum for his survival. This was the life Chanyeol had joined the Crown to avoid, and now he's been firmly placed back in it for his final days.  
  
"Who told you," Chanyeol says, biting at the stale bread, wondering how they're feeding Baekhyun. "Who told you about him?"  
  
"We have various connections, but we were tipped off by a man in China."  
  
Chanyeol thinks hard, and then his jaw drops in disbelief. "Was it Zhang Yixing?"  
  
"I don't know his name, if I'm honest. All I know is we got a call from a prison in Xiamen, that a man had a lead on Prince Eun in exchange for his bailout. We complied, naturally. He told us he'd noticed the royal insignia on the bracelet of a boy who'd appeared to protect the Crown officer who arrested him. Now tell me, how does that feel? Your whole plan ruined because of a petty thief."  
  
He doesn't say anything, simply staring at the ground in shock. "And that man trying to capture him at Miss Son's party, he was-"  
  
"One of us, yes," she smiles. "Although we have to thank Mr Do for singling him out to us. Unfortunately you had to go and get in the way," She watches Chanyeol swallow dryly. "I don't know why you're acting so betrayed now. _We_ are the good guys here. And the world will know it soon, because a coronation will happen tomorrow, but it will be for the prince who deserves it."  
  
She leaves again. Chanyeol stays awake until the next meal, just bread and water again, and then dinner, which is more of the same. His arm is healing, slowly but surely despite the harsh treatment, but he's still exhausted from the little sustenance they'd given him. He falls asleep no matter how hard he fights it.  
  
Somewhere into the night, he has a dream. Baekhyun's with him, shaking him, yelling out his name. It's a nightmare. He wants to reach out and touch him, hold him close to him, but he's just too tired.  
  
"Chanyeol, please, wake up," Chanyeol hears, so close to him, the breath on his face, and when he opens his eyes, Baekhyun is there. "Ssh," he says, covering his mouth before he can shout his happiness. "I know, I'm here. So are Junmyeon and Jongdae. We're getting out of here."  
  
The faces of his childhood friends now enter the picture, both not in their uniforms. The constraints around his wrists fall away and they help him up, Junmyeon and Baekhyun supporting him as he struggles to walk and Jongdae walking ahead of them, checking the coast is clear with his pistol ready to fire. It's past midnight, and most of the guards meant to be on night-time duty are fast asleep. They are lucky, and just about get to the exit when a female voice stops them.  
  
"A trio of traitors trying to steal the prince," she says, aiming a gun straight at Jongdae, who has his pointed back. "What will you do, shoot me? One gunshot and the whole place wakes up. You're outmatched. Let him go, and I might spare you."  
  
Junmyeon gives Jongdae a look, and he places his gun back in his holster. The girl smiles, triumphantly.  
  
"Good. Now let go of the prince."  
  
They do, Chanyeol falling a little further onto Junmyeon as Baekhyun steps forward. The girl smiles, courteous.  
  
"Your Maj-"  
  
Baekhyun smacks the gun out of her hand, twisting her arm behind her back and covering her mouth just as Jongdae retrieves his gun, aiming it again. "Don't shoot," Baekhyun says, and Jongdae nods, but doesn't lower his aim. "Listen to me, Jisoo. This is an order from your prince, understand?"  
  
She nods, looking between the gun pointed at her and Baekhyun, terrified.  
  
"You will not say one word of any of this when you go back. You will let them find my empty room in the morning and say you saw nothing. Understand?" She nods rapidly. "Good. You are under oath to follow my orders, so I hope you do so now." He lets her go, taking her gun off the floor and putting it in Chanyeol's empty holster. Jongdae doesn't lower his gun until she's through the door and it's closed behind her, at which point he turns around, helping Chanyeol as they begin to run.  
  
When they reach the late-night train Junmyeon is quickly on the telephone. The doctors arrive soon after, taking Chanyeol into a separate room to see to his wounds.  
  
After about an hour, they're allowed to see him. He's sat up on the bed already, looking much more awake, thick bandages wrapped around his right arm. "He's some kind of miracle man," the doctor says, "despite the shoddy treatment he'll be fine in two weeks, I think. We've fed him well, so he isn't exhausted anymore, but he'll need to rest as much as possible and take care of that arm."  
  
"You had us so scared there, Chanyeol, seriously," Jongdae's voice is full of exasperation, only for him to realize Chanyeol is paying him no attention at all.  
  
Junmyeon also notices the direction of his gaze, and he pats Jongdae on the back slightly. "I uh- think we should head out. We'll see you two tomorrow morning, alright?"  
  
They don't get a reply, but they weren't expecting one. As soon as the door shuts the train begins moving, rickety along the track.  
  
"I knew you, didn't I," is all Baekhyun says.  
  
Chanyeol looks at him, his heart hurting like it hadn't in years. "You did. And I left you."  
  
Baekhyun shakes his head, going to sit by him. "You did.” Chanyeol closes his eyes. “But you came back for me." He opens them again, looking at him with hope. “Even if it took you a while.”  
  
There's no moonlight, just the dim glow of the paraffin lamps, and no ocean waves, just the repetitive rumble of the train's wheels, but Chanyeol still thinks Baekhyun looks like an angel anyways. "Kiss me, Baekhyun."  
  
And he does. It's so different now than it had been the last few times - gentle, careful, as if Baekhyun was afraid he might break, and he very well may have. As the heat between them rises they get harsher, more desperate; Chanyeol moves his good arm to the collar of Baekhyun's shirt, pulls at it, attempting to undo the buttons singlehandedly.  
  
"Chanyeol, you're hurt," Baekhyun breathes, and Chanyeol sees himself mirrored in his pupils.  
  
"Maybe," he says. "But I've wanted to do this since I first saw you."  
  
Drawing him close they kiss again, Chanyeol's hand settling on Baekhyun's hip as he shifts more onto the bed, straddling him, back arched as he leans forward to keep their lips connected. His grip strengthens when the train lurches slightly, Baekhyun losing balance slightly only for Chanyeol to mouth at his collarbones, now just exposed enough. Baekhyun keeps his hands busy with unbuttoning their shirts while Chanyeol's run up and down his thigh, searching for purchase.  
  
They part for air, Baekhyun breathing heavy. "You okay?" Chanyeol asks, concerned, and Baekhyun nods. He does feel a little heady, but whether that's because of his asthma or all his nerves firing at once, he doesn't know, and doesn't care enough to find out. He strips his shirt off finally, and the look he gets then is every glance he'd caught Chanyeol giving him magnified by a thousand. "Fuck," Chanyeol breathes, his voice tinged with pure, unadulterated want.  
  
Pulling his hip up and closer to him, just low enough to run his tongue over his ribcage, over the mole he had there, and then up to a nipple making Baekhyun's head fling back and Hsu voice cry out, coarse and uncontrolled, the complete opposite to his singing. Chanyeol thinks both are just as beautiful, as are Baekhyun's hipbones as he manages to get the boy's trousers off, thanking God he doesn't wear a belt.  
  
As Baekhyun snakes backwards out of his clothes he places his legs between Chanyeol's, lavishing attention to his chest just as he had to him. Eventually he reaches his zipper, pulling it down with dainty fingers. Chanyeol shifts, wincing slightly as his bad arm gets moved, and Baekhyun rubs circles into his thigh. "I'll take care of you."  
  
Pulling his underwear down Baekhyun takes his cock into his hands, barely hesitating before taking it into his mouth.  
  
Chanyeol gasps, his hand in Baekhyun's hair, fingers clenching and unclenching. "You're a sin, Baekhyun," he says, watching him with lidded eyes that are met by his. He pulls Baekhyun up towards him, impatient now, hungry even. He tastes himself on Baekhyun's tongue as his hand settles on his ass, and Baekhyun moans into his mouth as he tightens his hold.  
  
The shorter boy grabs his wrist, guiding it back, and Chanyeol's eyes widen.  
  
"Baekhyun, I don't have any..."  
  
"Oh," he says, leaning over to reach for the doctor's supplies, rummaging through it until he finds a bottle he thinks should suffice. "Will this do?"  
  
"Perfectly," Chanyeol whispers, holding his hand out as Baekhyun pours the liquid onto his fingers. He returns to where he was, tracing shapes into Baekhyun's skin. As the first finger pushes in Baekhyun squirms, gripping tightly onto Chanyeol's shoulders, but with the second and third the bite of the sting falls away as he rocks back onto him, still holding on just as tight. His arms wrap around Chanyeol's neck now, as if looking for balance. Baekhyun turns, his breath hot and wet against Chanyeol's ear, his voice shaky with lust.  
  
"I want you."  
  
He leans back, smiling at the arousal on Baekhyun's face, reaching under him to drag his nails over Chanyeol's cock. The taller bucks into his fingers, so desperate for release, and with another kiss Baekhyun obliges him, sinking back onto him.  
  
They're still for a moment, Baekhyun acclimatising to the burn as Chanyeol runs his fingers up and down his spine, until eventually he's leaning into his touch, rising only to come back down, whines escaping his throat just asking him to _move_.  
  
So Chanyeol does. "Hold onto me," he says, encouraging Baekhyun to wrap his arms back around his neck and thrusting up slowly at first. Baekhyun chants in his ear wantonly, sounding so _wrecked_ , and he can't hold himself back anymore. He thrusts harder and faster, Baekhyun providing little more than sputtered groans and broken words. Chanyeol moves his spare hand to Baekhyun's cock, twitching from lack of attention, working it through his rough hands in pace with their motion. The grip around his throat is so tight now, but he doesn't mind - marks left by Baekhyun are ones he could be proud of.  
  
He knows he's nearing the edge, wanting to throw his head back by instinct, but Baekhyun reclaims his lips before he can, also too close, fingers threading through Chanyeol's hair. After a few more thrusts he feels Chanyeol's release inside him, and he comes himself only a few moments later, staining Chanyeol's palm and chest.  
  
Lying next to each other, they catch their breath for a while, staring at the ceiling, before Chanyeol reaches for a towel, trying to clean them both up as much as he can with one good hand. Baekhyun takes it from him, clearing up the sweat from Chanyeol's chest, taking low and deep breaths. Exhausted, he just rolls over into the bed, smiling when Chanyeol wraps his arm under him. It's clear he has something to say, something important, when he says nothing and turns as much as he can, regarding Baekhyun with eyes less lusty maybe than a few moments ago, but with no less fire in them.  
  
"Listen," he says, stammering a little, like a child confessing to their first crush. It's endearing to no end, and Baekhyun nods to give him the confidence to say what he needs to. "I can't tell you I love you. Maybe I did, once, as much as a child could even know love. But we're not the same people anymore, and I barely even know you, the new you." Chanyeol takes Baekhyun's hand in his, their fingers intertwining naturally, a key to its lock. "But that doesn't mean I don't want to."  
  
Baekhyun stares at him, contemplative. "What are you trying to say?"  
  
"I'm trying to say I want you around, Baekhyun. There's been other things I've thought I wanted - money, expensive clothes and fancy cigarettes - but when I didn't have those things, all I could think about was how much I missed waking up with your head on my shoulder."  
  
Baekhyun squeezes his hand, pulling it up to place a kiss on his knuckles, encouraging him to finish the proposal on the tip of his tongue.  
  
"I don't know what's going to happen in Seoul," Chanyeol says, looking directly at him now, "but whatever it is - for a while at least - will you stay with me?"  
  
The lost prince nods, leaning up to kiss Chanyeol properly now, smiling into his lips as they part. "It would be my pleasure."

 

 

=

 

 

Chanyeol is able to walk unsupported by morning, and they're all glad for it, as they arrive at the Palace with little time to spare. Baekhyun isn't given much time to explore the memories that solidify with every new room, but Chanyeol tells him it was mostly refurbished after the rebellion anyways.  
  
"The Prince will likely be in his quarters preparing for the coronation, we should go there immediately," Junmyeon moves with purpose.  
  
"I thought we were to pretend that Prince Eun was dead," Chanyeol whispers, and Baekhyun is equally confused.  
  
"You must abdicate your position. It was enough of a crime that King Gungye assumed the throne while you were living, and I won't see a crime like that happen again."  
  
Chanyeol grabs Junmyeon by the elbow just as they get to the royal wing, stopping him in his tracks. "If Baekhyun gets hurt-"  
  
"He won't," the older man says, a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "If I know the Prince correctly, everything will be fine."  
  
"Unfortunately, the Prince won't be able to see you," a voice says, and when they turn to the direction it came from they see Minister Lee, along with 3 of the royal guard aiming their rifles directly at them. "I've sent him down to the Abbey already. Now if you would be so kind as to put down your weapons, we wouldn't want any bloodshed on such an auspicious day, now would we?"  
  
They look between each other, and Junmyeon simply nods. They let their pistols fall to the floor, clattering against the marble.  
  
"Good," the Minister says, taking a few steps forward, standing directly in front of Baekhyun now. "Well, if it isn't Prince Wang Eun himself, returned to us at last like the prodigal son," he says, barely a whisper, tilting his head up with a leather-gloved finger, chuckling at his defiant expression. Chanyeol shifts, but the Minister just puts his hand up, stopping him. "Don't even think about it, Park. Two times a traitor, now, aren't you? Luckily for us you brought your friend here directly into the mouth of the shark - had we not known that a Crown officer had been kidnapped by loyalist rebels we may not have known of Prince Eun's survival until it was too late."  
  
"Prince Sehun doesn't want this," Chanyeol fires back, and the Minister seems genuinely surprised. "He wants Baekhyun to have the throne, doesn't he?"  
  
"What he wants is inconsequential, my dear boy," Minister Lee says, taking Baekhyun by the arm despite his struggling, "he is merely the face of something much bigger, and I will not allow everything we have done to be pushed into ruin."  
  
"Let go of him," Chanyeol says, ignoring the guns and pushing in front, but the Minister forces him to the floor with a strong backhand, and he cries in pain when he lands directly on his injury.  
  
Baekhyun stops, appealing to the Minister. "Please, I'll go with you. Just let them take him to the hospital, please," he begs.  
  
Looking between Chanyeol on the ground and the worried faces of Junmyeon and Jongdae, the Minister laughs. "So be it," he says, and the guards lower their guns just long enough for Jongdae to pick Chanyeol up, struggling to carry him downstairs as he drifts out of consciousness. "What, Junmyeon, won't you be joining them?" The Minister leers at him over his shoulder. "Or do you still think there's some hope left?"  
  
"Unlike you, he believes in me."  
  
The guards turn and immediately bow, making way as the Prince enters, his coronation robes rich and heavy. "You may leave," the Minister says, dismissing them. As soon as the guards are gone he drops the pretence, falling into an ugly grimace. "I sent you to the Abbey. Why are you here?"  
  
"I am no longer going to take orders from you," he says, without a hint of fear or hesitation. He walks up to the man, pulling the medal straight off his uniform. "This is your notice. You are not allowed anywhere near the Crown, else I will make your life a living hell. Do you understand?"  
  
The Minister stares at him with disbelief, but also hatred. "Your father would never do this."  
  
Sehun doesn't flinch. "I am not my father."  
  
Junmyeon is looking at him with a smile when he receives the nod, picking up the gun and aiming it at the Minister. "Let go of Baekhyun, and come with me," he says, leading the man away with his hands behind his back.  
  
Baekhyun can barely say thank you before the prince is pulling him down the stairs. "We must talk," is all he says, eventually bringing him to the backdoor of the Abbey, ignoring the salutes and greetings of the guards and servants along the way, allowed into places secured by the most highly armed of soldiers. The room they end up in is ornate, the woodwork seemingly ancient and meticulously crafted; however the focal point of the room sits on a plush velvet cushion right in the centre.  
  
"Look at it," the Prince says. The crown is beautiful indeed, Baekhyun thinks, but little else. The Prince seems to agree. "So much violence and bloodshed, envy and hate, all just for this. It's all more than a little idiotic, don't you think?"  
  
Baekhyun nods. This crown had lost him his family, had separated him from Chanyeol, had left him without a place to call home.  
  
"And yet so much relies on it. The hopes and dreams of millions rest on the shoulders of those who wear it, so it's important that it goes to the right person, the true king."  
  
He's not sure where this is going, but keeps listening anyways.  
  
"My father was not a good man," the Prince sighs, looking down in shame. "He took what he wanted forcefully, and put himself before his own people. He may have worn the crown, but he was never king." He takes it into his hands, examining it for a moment, and Baekhyun feels like he shouldn't be there, as if he's intruding. "I can't give you back the years you've lost. I don't expect forgiveness either. But I do want to repay you what I owe you, at least as much as I can."  
  
He holds out the crown, its diamonds glittering ever so slightly in the dim rays of the early morning sun. Baekhyun stares at it, wordlessly. Sehun moves it forward even further in his hands, an encouraging look in his eyes.  
  
"It is yours to take."  
  
After a few seconds of blinking, Baekhyun comes back to his senses, his expression softening into a smile. He puts his hands on the crown, and gently but firmly pushes it towards Sehun's chest. The younger man fumbles with it between his fingers slightly, the royal air around him disappearing leaving just a young boy, letting out a surprised huff and looking up at Baekhyun in confusion.  
  
"Why?"  
  
Baekhyun shrugs a little, the smile still on his face. "I'm not cut out for it. I have royal blood in me, sure, but that's not all it takes to rule. You've studied for this all your life, I couldn't possibly compete with that."  
  
Sehun begins to open his mouth in protest, but Baekhyun stops him early, taking the crown off his hands and placing it steadily on Sehun's head. It fits perfectly, and its comfortable weight almost distracts him completely from what Baekhyun says next.  
  
"And I don't want it. I've never wanted it. Even when we were children, it was Baekbeom- Wang So's dream; it's a dream you shared with him. I've never been the same. For me to wear this... it would be a disservice to the crown and the country, I feel. You love them more than I ever will."  
  
He stares at him, still shocked, but makes no move to take off the crown. "But even if I accept this, the nation won't. They still want you as king, I can't go against their will."  
  
"They want me as king because of my father, not me, I promise." Sehun looks at his feet, clearly not yet convinced. "You will be ten times the king I could ever be, and a hundred times what your father was, I believe that," Baekhyun smiles. "But you will have to prove yourself to them. As for the loyalists," he pauses, thinking. "Tell me, how many people in the Palace know I'm here?"  
  
Sehun raises his eyes to the ceiling for a few seconds, thinking hard. "As many as you interacted with, I guess."  
  
Baekhyun nods. "Okay... and how many know my true identity?"  
  
"That would just be... me, Minister Lee and the officers you came to Seoul with- wait, what are you doing?" He watches on as Baekhyun pulls off the silver bracelet around his wrist, bending it slightly before holding it out on his palm.  
  
"Listen to me carefully. Some workers of the Crown found this bracelet, bearing the mark of the old royal family and the true name of the lost prince, in the wreck of the next ship the pirates attack. Do you understand me?"  
  
Sehun stares at the object in his hand with wide eyes. After a moment, he looks back up, concerned. "But what will you do?"  
  
"I don't know yet. But we can't stay here. The loyalist faction in Busan - they won't buy your story, I'm sure - so I'd appreciate if you could use some of your influence to help us disappear."  
  
"Us?"  
  
Baekhyun smiles, more for himself than anyone else, patting his cousin on the shoulder. "As much trouble as it is, there's some things from this life I still don't want to leave behind."

 

 

=

 

 

The clock ticks on the wall slowly, almost as if every second has slowed to half speed just to draw out his torture. It's been all he could focus on for that last hour - this is an estimate, as he roughly recalled reaching 3600 ticks at some point since he woke up - because his eyes are still hard to open, especially with how bright the lights are in the room.  
  
He knows exactly where this is. It's the central hospital in Seoul, the one he'd once only dreamed of being able to stay in when he got hurt. It had been at least two days for him here, most of it spent unconscious, recovering from his wounds; but that is a luxury, he knows. Though somehow, instead of thinking about how lucky he is to be afforded such treatment, his mind can't help but go back to that dingy Hong Kong hospital, where he stayed for a few hours for a much less severe injury. The smell of the place was almost the same, and the nurses there may even have used the same perfume. The bustle of doctors and staff running around on the other side of the door isn't different either, and an immense sense of déjà vu washes over him. He picks up trivial things, the same click of heeled shoes against the tiled floors, the same discussions filled with medical jargon he can't understand most of. There's only one thing missing, but he's not expecting that to-  
  
"You were quite the escort, Chanyeol," he begins, almost on cue. Chanyeol can't help the smile spreading across his face.  
  
"I should hope so. It's not every day you get to personally guard the Crown Prince of Korea."  
  
"And when did you do that?" Chanyeol feels his familiar touch running over his hands, his fingers twitching towards his until he has them intertwined, stroking Baekhyun's slender thumb with his forefinger. "I'm not Prince Eun, my name is Byun Baekhyun. But in a few days I'll be someone else entirely," he sees Chanyeol's brow raise and then tense slightly, "and I'm going to be needing an escort out of here, out of the country in fact, and I was told to come to the best."  
  
"Well you came to the right place," Chanyeol smiles, pushing his eyes open finally to see Baekhyun's face smiling down at him, and Chanyeol's biggest wish in that moment is to be able to see that dazzling smile every day until his eyes grow weak with age, and it becomes the last thing he sees.  
  
When Baekhyun squeezes his hand in his, he feels a step closer to that dream.  
  
"So, where to next?" Chanyeol asks.  
  
"Somewhere the rebels won't find us, though I don't know where that could be. And I don't know what we'll do either."  
  
Reaching into his breast pocket, Chanyeol takes out a small piece of paper, crumpled now but Yixing's number on it still legible. "We'll figure something out."

 

 

**EPILOGUE: 1929**

  
  
The hot sun lingers overhead by the time the Crown's ship arrive at the harbour. Saluted by the armed guards, Junmyeon and Jongdae make their way up the cobblestone streets, the ones kept neat now as the island begins to transition into a tourist attraction. "Things are starting to look up here," Junmyeon says, just as they approach the address they'd been given. The restaurant, only opened recently, has become a big hit with locals and foreigners alike, and especially with the soldiers still stationed on the island. "Jeju Palace" is inscribed across the top in posh cursive.  
  
"Not as exciting as Seonsa’s Tavern, but I'll take it," Jongdae says off-handedly, before entering the establishment.  
  
"Junmyeon, Jongdae, so good to see you here," the old lady grins her toothless grin, pulling the two into a hug. "It's good to see you - you're both looking so thin, are they feeding you well back at the Palace?"  
  
"Yes Chef," Junmyeon grins, "but obviously never as well as you did."  
  
"Oh, stop the flattery," she giggles, whole body jiggling slightly as she does so. "Anyway, I'm sure you must be wondering where Chanyeol is, right? I’ll just go and get him," she says, returning to the back office.  
  
"Do you think he wants to come back at all?" Jongdae whispers sideways. "The new recruits are nowhere near his level."  
  
"They will be, with time," Junmyeon replies, his specialized uniform pristine as always. "And if I'm honest with you, I don't think he'll ever come back. He was always looking for happiness in grandiose things, but I guess the best things come in small packages after all."  
  
"Talking about yourselves, I see," Chanyeol enters the room, sleeves rolled up with a smile on his face. "So, how do you like the place?"  
  
"Firstly, I don't think you're in any position to talk, Mr Escort," Jongdae smirks, only to receive a half-hearted elbow to the shoulder. "Hey, don't do that! The punishment for a civilian attacking a Crown officer is still quite strict, you know."  
  
"Even one still cleaning up after petty vandals? It's been two years, Jongdae, you really don't want out?"  
  
"Hey, things have actually changed since you left. And if everyone leaves to be an entrepreneur who's gonna do my job?"  
  
"Fair enough," the taller man shrugs, turning to Junmyeon as they take a seat at one of the tables. It's just before the Crown officers' lunchtime and the place is not as packed as usual, so Chanyeol can allow himself to be laidback. "But you are a different case altogether, Mr Chief Advisor."  
  
"Don't remind me," Junmyeon groans, feigning fatigue when everyone knows he wouldn't trade his job for the world. He takes the cigarette Jongdae offers him, while Chanyeol declines, not wanting to ruin his clean streak. "Things are so busy now, I didn't even think it was possible for me to be busier than I was, but here we are."  
  
"Well, I'm glad you were able to grant us your company today," Chanyeol chuckles as Junmyeon rolls his eyes.  
  
"Speaking of business, where's Princey?" Jongdae pipes up.  
  
"Talking about me?" All three turn towards the door, where Baekhyun stands with a lopsided grin on his face. He's been able to take care of himself a bit more with Chanyeol around to help with work, so now his skin is clear and his hair luscious. "Sorry for keeping you so long, they kept me too late at the studio."  
  
"It's the new Son Hwayoung film, with that rookie actor as the male lead, right?" Jongdae asks. "You'd think they wouldn't have both leads be tone deaf, but I guess that's why you're here."  
  
"Well, it's Yixing's first production, so I'm gonna have faith in him," says Chanyeol. "Why he cast her in the film is beyond me, though."  
  
Chef Song comes out of the kitchen, with piping hot broth for all of them. "Ah, Haneul, you're back! How was your recording?"  
  
"It was good, Chef, we pretty much finished it off" Baekhyun smiles, now used to the new name in public. "We should be ready to send it off tomorrow."  
  
"You know it's coming up on the 2 year anniversary of that name," Jongdae says as soon as Chef Song is out of earshot. "I think we should celebrate the occasion with a trip to Seon-"  
  
"It's noon, Jongdae," Junmyeon sighs.  
  
"You really need to loosen up, Junmyeon. At this rate you'll be just like Minister Lee in a few years."  
  
"How dare you say that-"  
  
"Guys, guys," Chanyeol says, interrupting the argument waiting to start. "You're both right. We should definitely celebrate, but maybe a bit later. If you guys wanna go look around the island for a while we can meet there at 6. We've got a business to run, in case you forgot."  
  
Jongdae sighs over-dramatically, taking up his things. "Such are the pains of working life."  
  
"We'll see you guys at 6," Junmyeon says before the door closes behind them. As soon as they're gone, Baekhyun leans in close over the table.  
  
"We close at 3 today, why did you say we'd meet so late?"  
  
Chanyeol gives Baekhyun a peck on the lips, but it doesn't satisfy his curiosity. "If I'm honest with you, recording for this film has taken you away from me far too often recently, and when you get home you just go straight to bed. I've been starting to get withdrawal symptoms."  
  
Baekhyun laughs in his face, leaning back, much to Chanyeol's displeasure.  
  
"Sue me for wanting you all to myself."  
  
Baekhyun squeezes his hand in his, watching how their fingers fit together, clearly thinking of something else. "You remember two years ago, when you told me you wanted me to stay with you?"  
  
Chanyeol nods. It was impossible to forget. He hadn't felt confident to confess love back then, but he'd done so more than enough times in the 730 days since, meaning it more and more every time.  
  
"Well, how about now? Can I still stick around?"  
  
Uncaring of who's around Chanyeol kisses him again, deeper this time, answering his question without any hesitation, holding nothing back.  
  
When they pull back, Baekhyun's smile makes Chanyeol feel like the richest man on Earth.  
  
"The pleasure's all mine."


End file.
